Sword of Zeon
by The Reborn Akatsuki
Summary: A decade has passed since the days of the One Year War, two years since the close of the Neo Zeon War. In the aftermath of these conflicts peace has finally emerged for the people of the Earth Sphere yet this is soon to be shattered by the return of an old soldier of the Principality. Sequel to Soldier of Zeon and other works, Dieter Kries flies again against the Federation!
1. Interlude to Destruction

**AN: Well, I do hope that you didn't wait overly long for this. With this chapter upload, it marks the unveiling of the sequel to my prior story: The Soldier of Zeon, the adventures and tribulations of Dieter Kries an OC of my throughout the month of January during the One Year War. With all the one shots and side fics that followed that initial project, I hoped to craft more or less a highway for this narrative, and here we see the beginning of it.**

 **So sit back, enjoy and prepare to read more of my work, and of course Sieg Zeon!**

 **Disclaimer: Despite all my valiant efforts ownership of Gundam still eludes me...for now!**

 **Introduction**

 **Chapter One: Prelude to Destruction**

* * *

 **Transmission from Mercury Lagrange Point 1**

 **280,987 Kilometers from the surface of Mercury, Dark Side, Orbital Weather Station**

 **Station 1-K7**

 **June 15th, 0091 UC**

 **1900 Hours**

The ancient artificial platform that had been placed amid the rolling waves of gas, debris and rock that regularly exploded upward from the surface came from a time when the possibility of mineral or ore extraction from the heavy metal rich planet had been given serious consideration by certain commercial interests within the Earth Sphere but in the lead up to the eventual outbreak of the One Year War it like many of its automated brethren had been abandoned. Projects stalled out or were canceled as resources were diverted towards the decade long military build up within the Federation and then the war effort, in the aftermath of that conflict it had fallen even further into obscurity, eventually the controlling interests of the handful of satellites that had been launched towards that effort were sold off to a subsidiary branch of Anaheim Electronics. From there it was merely a matter of time before it was converted to act out its new purpose.

Making usage of its high speed broadcast radio setup along with its transmission and reception equipment, once designed to report minute surface changes in temperature and stability into a all but untraceable and utterly encrypted communications array was something of a headache due to its inability to coordinate rapidly with modern computing operation systems but all the same it would be vitally needed for its new master's endeavor. With the advent of laser burst comms and high speed communications via the Sides and their assorted satellites and radio transmitters and receivers the frequencies and channels that were reserved to the decades old platform were dreadfully out of date and therefore nearly impossible to break into without dedicated equipment to measure and monitor it.

And that was how it was, months past by for the platform as it completed its shielded rotation across the dark side of the tidally locked planet, collecting data and information that would never be used for colonization and mineral extraction, forgotten by all until a partnership was struck between AE and those who would have use for such a unique method of sending highly sensitive data back into the Earth Sphere. That was what prompted the aging if still mechanically sound array to open, to extend its crude and antiquated radio antennas and receivers and begin transmission of the data it was being tight beamed locally out of Mercury's bounds and towards Earth on this day.

The message itself was exceedingly simple and even the simple automated systems and the rudimentary intelligence that been created solely to oversee the station and its siblings noted that much, usually the incoming burst transmissions were far lengthier. Locations, potential targets, information, spy reports, all these things were funneled through it towards those who sought that information, undetected. This time it was but a simple command.

 **/High** **Priority** **/**

 **Begin immediate mobilization and preparation for extended combat routines against the Federation, follow operational procedure 4-7**

 **Target-Earth/North America,California/** **Portugal, Lisbon/** **Predetermined Soft Locations 721-54, With lack of orders commanders are given authorization to engage targets of opportunity, Case Black 119**

 **Immediate Orders As Followed**

 **Operation-Olympus/Start/**

 **Sieg Zeon-GOOD HUNTING!**

Even the simple AI who had been created to monitor weather, to transmit that data to would be colonists noted the change in the message this time, this was not a mere update. Whatever those who had come to make use of it had been awaiting, this was it.

* * *

It had been a long time coming for this. All that had came before would finally be justified, victory would finally come to them. All the wasteful destruction and deaths that had plagued their species, all the havoc and discord that had been wreaked upon humanity would end. And it was all owned to Haman Karn, the final commander of Axis later known as Neo Zeon had laid the seeds for this next chapter. For this final entry into the saga of the Universal Century. To final end and utter destruction of the Earth Federation.

It had taken years of preparation, time to accumulate the needed resources, and personal required to carry out this operation. But that was over, now they stood ready, now they would take their vengeance and in the process of this much deserved retribution...for the first time in more then a decade a Zabi would rule Side Three, the legacy of Haman Karn would live on. The collective wish of their people would be honored, and all would return as it must, for that was the destiny of Zeon. If it could not rule all of humanity, it would at the very least rule its own birth place.

They would reclaim the homeland, they would reconstitute the absolute and divine authority of command to the family that had elevated Zeon above all others.

Above all...They would reforge image of Zeon's absolute and unquestionable might, no longer would they be regarded as irregulars fighting a war long since over, no longer would they be the castoffs of a Federation puppet state, no longer would they endure the humiliation that had burned within them since some twelve years prior. Zeon would be rebuilt from nothing, and everything would be set right, he would bank on that mandate with his life. To accomplish this he would do anything and everything within his power to demonstrate the utter futility of opposing him, to opposing Zeon, it did not matter what was done in the name of this cause. It was holy, a divine mandate to him to give his people their homeland once again.

Zeon would live again, not as a false republic under the dictation of the Federation but as the Principality it had become under the wise and proper direction of the Zabi family. Who better to rebuild her family's legacy from nothing then the young girl Mineva? Sole surviving Zabi and of course...its rightful sovereign by mandate of blood. To give this girl her destiny, they would need to reclaim their own, rather then fighting a losing and desperate battle against the Federation they would strike as they had in the war. Not the pale and false imitation that Delaz had invoked, not the tale of betrayal and tearchery that Haman had suffered in no. They would reignite the fear and terror that the Federation once felt at the mere prospect of facing them down in battle, and they would cobble together their shattered honor and forge a blade to drive straight through the Federation's heart with it.

They would reconstruct the battlefield of their youth, the war of their youth.

* * *

 **Two Years Ago**

* * *

 **Mosa Bloc, Neo Zeon Asteroid Fortress Axis, Outer Perimeter of Core 3**

 **Zeon Battle Group**

 **Gwadan Battleship: Inxs**

 **January 17th, 0089**

 **1700 Hours**

How could it happen again? How could victory be snatched away from them **again**? Watching from aboard the bridge of one of but a handful of surviving ships remaining to the Neo Zeon fleet he, perhaps one of the scarce few officers left to their force was witness to it. A mere hour earlier he had fought against the best of the paltry force the AEUG and the scant remnants of the rebels of the now fallen Glemmy Toto had beset them with, he along with his fellows had fought a long and decisive battle but as it raged to its conclusion he was absent from the field. His Gelgoog despite its numerous advancements and reinforcements over the course of the decade he had piloted it since its first combat sortie at A Baoa Qu, still was limited to the scope of its technology. Its munitions were relatively time consuming to replace, especially the individual E-Cap cells that had to be inserted for its refitted arm mounted beam cannon to function, its hand held weaponry was held up to the same standard as all of their mobile suits yet all the same, even the most advanced beam magazine eventually had to be replaced, they could be expanded and their power draw lessened with every improvement yet still all energy was finite.

So he had withdrawn, just temporarily to have his machine refitted to fight once more, and yet in perhaps the space of thirty minutes during which his machine along with the handful of others still present within the great battleship's hangar were being refitted and rearmed for further combat, it all fallen apart. Their force, their fleet, it had been routed, picked apart, obliterated. At the head of the AEUG's charge had been the Gundam. Lady Haman had issued challenge to it and its pilot and as she had requested, the majority of the Zeon forces had not interfered in what was bound to be an honor duel between their leader and the pilot of the newest incarnation of the Federal abomination that had been haunting Zeon since late in the One Year War.

Yet the results of their battle were clear, Haman Karn, his sworn leader, the regent of Mineva, the leader of Neo Zeon, his war leader for his crusade of justice and retribution... **dead** , only three battleships survived and all but a scarce few of their supporting vessels remained even moderately operational, much of their scarce surviving force had either been destroyed or severely damaged when the asteroid struck the colony, and even then...the survivors had been ripped apart by a fierce and unrelenting counter attack, there would be no victory today, it was obvious to anyone with eyes. What of their men though? What of their mission? What of **Mineva** , that final thought was the one that chilled his blood for weeks to come. Would he willingly abandon his sworn liege? To quit the field in disgrace and abandon her to capture, and imprisonment to save his own neck? To save what remained of their army? How many dozens had already died today? This battle had come right after the brutal conclusion of their own internal issue in dealing with the traitor Glemy and that conflict had saw much of their overall force split and pitted against each other, and it wasted the army they had assembled over the prior decade, an army that was supposed to be dedicated to singular purpose.

The restoration of Zeon, the reclamation of the homeland, the ascension of Mineva Zabi to her grandfather's and uncle's throne.

Here and now however was what mattered, not the misused potential of the past, not the petty and ultimately pointless struggle between brothers in arms against one another. Yes here had to be the concern, he had to contemplate with the death so many within the Axis forces he truly might be the ranking commander of their force, the highest ranking military officer alive with the entire fleet...he had always wished for greatness, a command of his own, yet never did he wish it to come from this. He was no Gihren Zabi, no Haman Karn, no Delaz...he was barely fit to fight for any of those hallmarks of Zeon, broken and twisted as he was after his own repeat near deaths in fighting against the corrupt Federation. Yet all the same, fate did not ask him if he was worthy, ready or even capable of the task now seemingly thrust upon him.

All were still aboard the bridge of the great warship, even now the occasional flicker of battle, the explosions of munitions or mobile suits were visible from their position cloistered upon the asteroid, ship and missile fire illuminated the darkness but it was a losing battle, a desperate fight for survival. The bridge staff had been stunned into silence with the death of Haman and the damage done to the great vessel by the collision of colony with asteroid, their hull had been breached several times over from debris, and that wasn't factoring in the damage done to the warship from the battle itself. Even if he tried to rally the surviving forces would they be allowed to disengage or would they be senselessly shot in the back? No matter, it wouldn't be decision either way no he would abide by whatever twist of fate came his way.

He issued his first command absent from the authority of the Lady Regent, a twist of his lips bore his disgust at the prospect for all to see, he had wanted this, to be in command, to rule, yet what was he to rule? What was he to command? Wreckage? "Recall all mobile suits from battle stations, see if you cannot get in touch with what's left of the battle group..." His voice felt fluid and calm, projecting the familiar aura of command and cold determination he had ordered squadrons of men to their deaths with, that he had charged into battle with. He wouldn't provide the spark that would set fire to the embers of panic within the forces, no they needed something to rally around and perhaps they were the only ones left capable of that...perhaps he was the only one capable of that. Still to the matter of ships and mobile suits and recalling them from action...He wouldn't hold out much hope for that, their suits may be able to return under their own power but for their warships, that would be a differing matter entirely, for them to even regroup and attempt an organized retreat, they'd have to cross the field and risk destruction by that damned _Argama_ or its pet Gundam. The crew to their credit, even the Inxs's own captain despite the horrid outcome of this battle, despite the travesty, they had witnessed here...were professional soldiers at the end of the day responded quickly whatever limited authority he and his rank could offer them. When they received no reply from either their support forces or much of their mobile suits he wasn't overly surprised, many had fallen with their liege as they should in defense of the ideals of a restored Zeon...unlike he, the survivor, the damned who clung to life through every failure, every defeat of Zeon. Would this cycle continue onward forever? Would he bear witness to the hope of revitalization, the actual possibility of victory to their cause, and then be there for its inevitable defeat again and again?

He pushed those thoughts away, reflection could come after he guided what few men he could away from this slaughter.

They were done here.

Only one thing remained to be claimed from the falling fortress of Axis before their departure.

* * *

Gazing dispassionately through the tempered clear material of his helmet he eyed the solid bulkhead before him, this was what he had come to claim this particular cell.

The vast vaults and stores of Axis contained within them mounds of precious resources, mined ores, and mineral wealth enough to supply and construct thousands of mobile suits yet that was not what he had come to claim. Amid the rolling power outages, the decompressing chambers and vented hull across the fallen fortress he had come for a singular prize, one that he could not willingly abandon even if it cost what remained of their forces even more dearly. No what remained in the deepest and darkest vault was what he needed, the final legacy of the Principality awaited.

Three elevator descents, four rolling corridors that spanned the length of the interior of the asteroid, and two now abandoned security checkpoints led to the treasures that were given to the sole surviving sovereign Spacenoids of Side Three. A sad reminder of better days, days in which they had ruled themselves, had fought to maintain that, to free humanity from the yoke of its controls at the hands of the Federation.

Ferried to the then distant fortress at the conclusion of the One Year War, he was perhaps one of the scarce few surviving within Axis that likely even knew this was here but he was aware of it and he couldn't abandon it. After all this was Axis's final trump card, the weapon Haman had threatened yet never employed. Releasing a thick cloud of breath that fogged his helmet he began keying in the eighteen digit entry code for the door, recalling the command code was as easy as breathing after all, he was privy to many similar codes that required to access the more restricted portions of the fortress. All save the one to the throne room which only Haman and a scarce few of her honor guard knew. Lady Haman...that woman had paranoia to a fault and that served her well with her security measures. Yet as a senior officer with the fleet he knew the codes, at least to this particular door. The accompanying soldiers stared as thick metal slid back before revealing the brightly lit interior of the cell, within the chamber were dozens of sealed industrial cargo crates, all bearing the old sigils and markings of the long fallen Principality.

This was the final gift of their former homeland to the forces of Axis, a parting gift that Admiral Karn had the foresight to retrieve from the stores of Granada before abandoning the Lunar City after the war. Stepping into the chamber he knew he was perhaps the first to arrive within this room since Axis had departed months ago at the conclusion of their war with the Titans.

Pulling himself along one of the thick sealed containers he pulled the thick heavy lids free revealing the interior of the case to those who had skeptically followed him on this mad jaunt across the falling fortress, they had questioned his sanity at his refusal to leave without at the very least confirming this room lost or if it survived retrieval of what was within. Pulling free one of the near ten pound explosives he grimaced at the rust and spotted metal that adorned the football shaped shell. These were far too small to be employed as his old C Type's 98 shells yet all the same the five kilogram fission bombs were leftovers of the Zeon campaign across Earth, something of a lesser known secret of the Principality in the late days of the war after the fall of Odessa.

They had used miniature nukes to cover their retreat. These were the legacy of that defeat, yet they were useful all the same despite their size due to the sheer amount of them here. As he eyed the remaining containers. _'Besides some are far larger then mere a 5 kilos'._ Yes some of the larger storage units within the cell bore conventional rocket propelled nuclear warheads, not the makeshift nuclear mines they had made use of on Earth. All together they had perhaps forty or so conventional nuclear devices of various configurations and assorted weight strewn about the chamber. _'With this our war can continue.'_ While they had lost the strength of their force during the course of this war with these surviving weapons they could resume their counter offensive far sooner. After all while they had lost multitudes of skilled pilots and all too precious mobile suits either at the hands of the cursed AEUG or themselves during the resulting civil war the Toto faction had unleashed during the course of their incursion...with these those that lack of numbers could made up for.

Or at least the loss marginalized. Conventional war had failed them twice now, now was the time for a change of strategy. He knew what he had to do, now he simply had to figure out how to make it happen.

"Begin loading everything aboard the _Inxs_...leave nothing behind." With the command issued there was nothing left for him here as he gently placed the device of mass destruction alongside its other half dozen fellows within the case.

There was now just the simple task of him having to die for the next stage of this plan to succeed. That would be simple enough, after all he had come close to death numerous times before.

* * *

 **Two Years Later**

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1000 Hours**

Steven Liu stared disgustedly at the simulator results as they streamed across the board, his last performance had been pathetic. You'd hardly think he'd ever even been within the cockpit of a mobile suit little lone a veteran of the war with the AEUG and Neo Zeon yet that was partly why he was here to begin with. Like much of the former 11th Terrestrial Battalion of the Titans he had been demoted and kept locked away in the brig but he skirted by more circumstance then merit. He had the CO to thank for that, O'Sullivan had saved his ass to put it frankly and earned a world of trouble for her efforts. He got to fly again, even in a uniform but it came at the price of him having to basically send his commander to the brig in his stead. She'd taken the rap for a few of the questionable activities that some of the European divisions had gotten up to in the year preceding the outbreak of Gryps...never mind the fact that he hadn't even been in the Titans back in 0086, he was a fresh faced recruit of disgraced special forces branch but that was enough a charge to throw him in irons for. The higher ups hadn't cared that they had shit for evidence, they wanted to reassure the now outraged populace of the colonies that surviving Titans were punished, and they were punished as a whole, anyone with even vague connections to suspected war crimes or crimes against humanity were often held for months before a tribunal even convened.

All the same though, what was he supposed to do? Not make the most of what he had been given? O'Sullivan had entrusted him with a future he could live within the service and he had done the best he could fighting against Neo Zeon during their brief invasion of Earth, and then the next thing you know Neo Zeon was fleeing back into the darkness of deep space and the war was done. He owed his former commander more then he could ever repay but he would spend the rest of his time stationed here with her to ensure that he at least paid off a fraction of that debt. Truthfully he was surprised he ran back into the former Titan here in Monterey, much of their surviving division had been cast to the winds when the Titans were officially disbanded, even those who weren't jailed had either left the service all together or had been relocated across the globe and colonies.

Prior to coming here, he hadn't seen the female officer for nearly two years. In that time she had changed, and while he hadn't known her back during the days of the One Year War and the original fight against Zeon, he had known her within the Titans as she served as his commander and if that was any indicator then she was a hell of a warrior even back then. Prideful, strong and smart as a whip but now she seemed subdued, she could still fight that much was clear but there was no longer any fire in it, any love she may have bore for the service had evaporated long ago, even he could see it. Not that he could exactly blame her for losing her enthusiasm...cast aside, imprisoned, charged and convicted of criminal negligence and gross incompetence, all for the uniform she wore being black and red at the time instead of white and blue.

He owed her for saving his ass multiple times as well and if anything her actions during the war should have earned her a commendation, he knew that the Federation had its troubles but the levels of blatant cronyism with former members of the AEUG in the aftermath of the war sicked him. Where there bad eggs among the Titans? Certainly, he'd never met Jamitov or Om but he had heard the stories that had circulated about them among the force, he'd passed them off as mere rumor but after Dakar and then Zedan, what was anyone to think? All the same though the actions of a few corrupt officers who got off on gassing civies shouldn't have reflected on O'Sullivan that much he was certain of.

Yet there was nothing he could do about, and that inability to do anything had frustrated him ever since he had ran into the woman in the base corridor weeks ago. They had talked briefly, promised to catch up yet that never materialized and he knew that while he was no mobile suit designer, he wasn't stupid. She undoubtedly resented him, she had ever right to do so...its one thing to brave and noble in the moment, to promise to protect those who serve under you, its another to rot in a cell for months for actually sticking to your guns.

Pushing the back a tuft of black twinged hair he sighed, this line of thinking wasn't doing him any favors.

"Hey Roy! Get the rig going again, I am going to beat that damn suit if it kills me!" He shouted at the techie from across the room as he began preparing the pod once again for another "sortie". He'd get rid of these troublesome thoughts the old fashion way, he'd blow some shit up.

 _'Amuro Ray you are going down!'_ With that thought raging within his mind he was once more submerged into the chaos and fire of an artificial war.

* * *

 **Meanwhile Elsewhere At The Base**

* * *

Choice, free will, the act of such was what separated man from beast. To act beyond mere instinct and instead dictate the course of your life via your own action. The choice that awaited her was not easy but it was glaringly obvious she had to take one path or the other. No longer could she stew in the mediocrity of her current existence.

The glow of a single active terminal cast scarce illumination across the darkened quarters, the small single bed room officer's quarters were hardly spacious yet she was afforded a private place to bunk due to her rank, if only just. Across the rather spartan quarters only a few photographs of her father decorated her home, the rest of the space was reserved for manuals, logistical reports, staff reports, training reports, and other things that related to her work. Yet that despite the darkness she made no move to turn upon the overhead light or anything else, the message had come just as she expected. She knew it was no lie, no it came as mere confidence in that she knew better.

Yet all the same with the information in hand what as she to do know? What was to be her choice?

Meryl O'Sullivan stared grimly down at the service medal clenched between her fingers. She had won this decoration after the conclusion of the One Year War, despite her rather humiliating capture at the hands of a man thought dead. Yet here they were more then a decade out from the collapse of the Principality seemingly nothing had changed. Zeon had returned in force a mere three years prior and waged yet another war of rampant destruction and death across the Earth Sphere though thankfully the so called _Neo Zeon War_ had a far lower body count...still though.

Her fingers tightened around the cooled metal. Its smoothed edges bit into her hand but she ignored the sensation, far too focused in her own rumination for that paltry sensation of pain to reach her. Yes her internalized shame and rage bit far deeper then that metal ever could.

She hadn't fought in the war, no at the time she had been under court marshal awaiting a tribunal to dictate her fate, she like many of the surviving _Titans_ had been stripped of rank and thrown in the brig at the conclusion of Gryps and had to rot out the following war in a cell. After the Federation had convicted her as the commanding officer of the _11th Terrestrial Battalion_ of criminal negligence and gross incompetence she had served a paltry sentence much lesser then those who had been accused of worse. Much of the surviving leadership of the Titans these days were rotting in various prisons on charges of anything ranging from mass murder or "crimes" against humanity. Her own preceding thankfully hadn't been that dramatic...they had been allowed back into service, mere months after the conclusion of the preceding war. She had to ride out the entire conflict from the comforts of a 8 by 10 concrete cell in California, when she was finally released she was demoted and tasked with any shit deployment or duty they could think of. Yet after the mission to the Congo nearly a ago that had changed, she was instead ordered to oversee the training of the immensely depleted Federation forces. A task she had grudgingly took up for the following months because it was desperately needed. Gryps had gutted their manpower either by direct conflict with the AEUG or defections to it, those who had defected...even those that defected had usually died according to what she had been able to pick out.

Either in combat against her fellow Titans or later against the forces of Haman Karn's Neo Zeon.

But there were survivors. Oh yes there those within the AEUG who had survived their war with both the forces of the long fallen Principality under Karn and against the government of Earth, and despite their **mutiny** , despite their **treason**...they were rewarded, they were given official positions within the Federation, a new independent task force. **The Londo Bell**. Unlike her a loyal soldier of Earth, a patriot...for her steadfast devotion and belief. She was cast aside when it became politically convenient, for more then a decade she had served faithfully. How many Zekes had she killed? How many missions had she flown? How much had she given up, suffered and endured all for the sake of the Federation? She was unmarried, had no prospects for children, her father had passed shortly after the One Year War, and she had nothing left but the military...and then at the most opportune time, they'd stabbed her in the back as deeply as they could skid by with. She didn't regret her choice, it was between herself or her unit and they'd suffered enough by the end of Gryps, she couldn't put them through the mockery of a tribunal that awaited them. So she did what she had felt right as she always did...but the anger never faded from the indignity she was forced to endure. Why her? Why did she have to endure that in place of dead men with too much lust for power and too little compassion? She knew that the Federation just wanted to scapegoat the entire Titans branch of the military and they'd made damn sure to do so as quickly as it became the only way to retain their weakening hold on the once again restless colonies.

She didn't regret her choice...but she couldn't forgive that she had been forced to make it.

With a hiss of breath she tossed the service medal against the wall with all her might.

The hunk of metal impacted the concrete of the wall of her domicile with a grave thud before gravity kicked in and brought the forged bit of decoration downward in a heap of cloth and alloy.

Was it irony or fate that dictated she have something else in common with _him_? If nothing else she supposed it made the choice easier. Yes that mission in Africa months ago had offered a loop through her hole, a way out, a new chance.

Pushing herself off the uncomfortable lump of insulation that was her mattress she straightened our her uniform with a practiced ease that stemmed from years of doing the practice. Before looking herself over once in the mirror. She had only a few hours to ready herself for what was to come, there was no turning back from this point.

Making her way across the bounds of her "home" on base she eyed the items arrayed about it before deciding she needed none of these trinkets, none of them bore any value in what was to come, all they bore were memories of a life that had ended with her service to the Federation. She eyed the contents of the screen that still burnt in the darkness of the windowless room, among the various emails she again spotted the one that had led her to this. She paused briefly at the prospect of actually deleting it, no doubt it would be recovered from the hard drive unless if she deliberately smashed it into a lump of parts and circuits but there was no point. Soon enough what had happened would become obvious, there was no need for subterfuge. Bringing the cursor back across the screen passing over the little animated butterfly graphic she brought up the tab and closed it, no sense in making it too blatant no matter how evident what was coming became in hindsight. Clicking off the monitor of her computer she cast the room into darkness once more.

She had made her choice.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Jukon-class Submarine: Degwin, Eighty Nine N** **autical Miles Off Shore**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1200 Hours**

The salted sea air bit into his lungs with every breath but he put aside the minor inconvenience even as it threatened to reduce him to hacking fits. All the same as he gripped the thick rusted metal of the hand rail as he strolled downward from the upper conning tower of the submarine he eyed the landmass in the distance despite the rolling fog of midday that clung to water, it had been more then a decade since he had returned to California not since he had been launched from it hectically back into space during the fall of the Zeon defensive lines in the aftermath of the raid on Jaburo. The blood of many hundreds of Zeon decorated these shores, they had fought, and fought and killed and been killed for days as the transport HLVs were shot continually back into space.

He was aboard the second to last when California Base finally fell, after the rather heroic if ultimately futile defense efforts headed by the infamous Midnight Fenrir Corps. He had fought alongside those men and women for days in the follow up from their failure in South America as the Federation tried again and again to break their lines and surround the bases under Zeon's control. It had been some of those hectic and bloody fighting of the entire war during the Earth Campaign and those final days of it lived up to that reputation, all the same though Midnight Fenrir was no longer his concern, the unit had been disbanded in the aftermath of the war and had been divided between those loyal to the ideals of Zeon and those content to play bootlicker. Either way it was all irrelevant now, the Zeon War of Independence was long since over.

Though soon it would be revived once more.

Amid the rolling waves of the sea, the cawing of birds in flight and the slow but steady thrum of the turbines that powered the submarine he felt oddly at peace. He had returned to Earth since the war, obviously it was required that he ensure that everything was in place for the eventual return and victory of the Duchy of Zeon. Yet still he had avoided California, indeed North America almost purposefully, it was to his eye yet another site where far too much had been lost in their bid for freedom, he did not begrudge the Zabi's as he knew some within their cause did, no he knew better. Gihren had been the man must suited to rule humanity, that was certainty, surely a far better dictator then the greedy industrialists and bureaucrats that lorded over humanity under the auspices of the Federation by any means.

Yet to many within their cause he was viewed as a mere politician rather then the leader of their force. It was true that unlike either Dozle or even loath he admit, Kycilia had gone through the Zeon military program yet all the same he stood at the forefront of the strategic brilliance that was their early success in the war. Because of him the Federation was driven to the brink of defeat...but he supposed in war, coming close simply wasn't good enough and many of his fellows held bitter memories towards what they lost, that undoubtedly colored their judgement, he didn't begrudge them for it.

He heard the soft approach of boots striking metal, he didn't bother to turn even as the Captain of the sub approached his side, taking up the other portion of the rail gazing outward. "Everything is ready sir." The gravely and rough tone of the submariner announced. "Well done Taylor, I trust everything is on schedule?" The causal tone of the question belied the sheer intensity of his gaze as his head turned slightly to the left to openly look upon his fellow officer. Everything had been going according to plan as of yet, and he hoped that streak would continue, they could afford precious few mistakes... _'The lead up to Olympus needs to go perfectly...'_ Once things preceded as he planned then they could make adjustments for the future but as it stood now, any variable to the equation was a potential threat to his design.

That simply wouldn't be tolerated, and while he was putting his faith in the untrusted for his junction of the operation, it wasn't as if he didn't have a fallback in place to still get what he required. Yes he would hope things went to plan for this little show he had organized, yet even if this failed there was always the next step, and that wouldn't fail. He'd see to that personally.

This wouldn't be a repeat of nine months prior. No this time everything would go perfectly, he had the utmost assurance of that, after all...he knew the skills of his would be agent in this firsthand.

"Yes sir everything is underway, we are within firing range now and beginning final preparations for the mission." Good it was finally time to step out of the shadows, they had been nearly uncovered the prior year but due to either a stroke of fate or luck they had been able to operate in the underbelly of the accursed Federation a while longer, and now it was finally time to start this. No longer would they slink in shadows preparing weapons and resolve for when the day finally came to wage their war.

Now war would finally come to them, and in it victory.

"Good I want everything ready by the time the Degwin fires." He would tolerate no mistakes here, not here, not now.

* * *

Within the damp and tight confines of the submarine he found little comfort, the air was stale and heavily recycled, working off of decade old filters that had been patched and repaired as much as possible. The hull was pitted and scarred from wounds sustained both in combat and traversing the oceans of Earth, all together the _Degwin_ was perhaps one of the last great vessels of the once powerful Zeon earthborne blue water navy. A ship that had been denied all but the most scarce and discreet of dry dock and refurbishment, it survived as much by the skill of its veteran crew as it did by the grace of luck.

Yet all the same it was fortunate he had stumbled upon the vessel years ago during one of his brief ventures to Earth to test out the critical components for his planned vengeance against the Federation, it made what was to come all the easier having something as rudimentary as a submarine on hand. Something that the Federation no doubt no longer even considered a viable combative threat on Earth, after all they were more then a decade out from the One Year War and the fall of California base and other Zeon berths across the planet. It was this arrogance he would exploit, this sense of entitlement and victory he would rip from their cold dead fingers.

Zeon would rise again and it would be in no small part to the dedication of those who had remained on this muddy sphere after their prior defeat, it was their drive for victory, their yearning for this reversal that would make it possible. Yes he had provided them with the munitions, the mobile suits, the weapons to fight he gifted freely, but it was their desire to wield them that would lead to their success. Because of his affiliation with a certain private economic interest it made it all too easy to smuggle weapons down to the planet below, officially marked transports that were ferrying run of the mill technical components and parts were also filled with munitions. Food stuffs and preserved goods destined for markets in space carried back with them not empty hulls but fuel, reactors and other needed components, he was cobbling together a force from what scarce little he had, in his efforts he had to discard his shame, his dignity and accept the reality that without assistance his vengeance would forever beyond reach.

With Anaheim's help he was finally within now ready to unleash what he viewed as the best possible chance of an earnest revival of Zeon, no longer would they war with the Federation to ensure triumph or the reclamation of the homeland, no they'd dictate terms straight out of the gate.

"We are on schedule sir and our escorts have arrived." He noted with some grim sense of satisfaction that they were registering several incoming pings upon the active sonar scans. There window for the mission had been achieved, everything was now in place. With that confirmation from Captain Taylor there was nothing left for it, now there would be nothing standing in his way beyond other's inability to get the job done. Giving a firm nod to the seated commander of the submarine he took in a deep stale breath before letting out an exhale through his torn nostrils and giving the man a grin.

Time to speak the words he had been awaiting since the end of the Neo Zeon War.

 **"Commence operation."** Let the signal fire of their return from the abyss be lit.

"Reduce thrust, prepare to surface, load batteries 10-14 with anti personal projectiles. " The captain gave orders with the smooth flairless dictation of a man who expected his orders carried out as soon as given, and the crew obliged as the submarine ceased propulsion and began to rise upward, breaching the surface in a spray of saltwater already the men of the vessel followed their duty as missile bays were loaded with the provided munitions. And within a period just five minutes they were ready for action. "Batteries loaded Captain, awaiting your word." the gunnery officer confirmed over the onboard. Now Taylor had to simply give the word and this would begin.

"You have command Taylor I will coordinate with our escort force and direct operations ashore." His fellow officer merely gave a nod of affirmation, while it was true that they both bore the same rank and while aboard the vessel he granted a great deal of operation leeway to the submariner, ultimately both men knew that he was the one calling the shots, until his arrival they had been scrapping to the underside of the Atlantic clinging to whatever friendly port they could desperate for supplies and a reason to fight. He had changed that, with him came a prospect, a chance however slim for a reversal of fortune that had been denied them all for a decade.

As he strolled out of the bridge he heard the Captain give the command. "Missile Batteries 1-8...fire." As he began ascending the vertical series of hatches and passages that led to the exterior of the great submarine he couldn't help but to brace himself as the boat shuddered as it launched perhaps the first payload it had fired since at the very least the Neo Zeon War. He knew the Captain had he followed his own design would begin the assault by firing a collection of conventional M particle dispersal charges, miniature fusion reactors designed to explode outward blanketing the area in the electronic frying EMP effect of anything that wasn't grounded to resist the attack. After those had landed, normal missiles and explosives would suffice to soften it for the initial landing.

They had to make up what they lacked in numbers in surprise and ferocity.

Blind and silence the pig before bringing down the knife to slaughter it.

* * *

As he once more exited the sealed hatchway to the conning tower and eyed the land mass before him he was nearly taken aback by the sight of the warheads striking the military facilities, blossoms of fire erupting outward visible even from more then a dozen miles out but this was just the prelude, something to soften the base for their insertion. He gave a brief glance at his watch before giving a nod of assent as the _Capule_ surfaced alongside the submarine its stocky circular body rising upward out of the water. The _AMX-109 Capule_ one of the newer toys that dear Haman had left him with, while there were only a scarce handful of these machines remaining in circulation he had acquired one for the sake of this stage of the operation.

As its circular mono eyed camera regarded him in silence he merely awaited the somewhat lengthy process of the cockpit cycling to open. Once the hatch parted and revealed the interior of the broad aquatic mobile suit. "Good you are on time Yuuka, now lower the suit, we have a lot to do in short order." He commanded as the now revealed pilot complied as she worked the machines with her trademark finesses. She had objected during the planning stage of this operation, having to make use of a hijacked tanker ship to transport their mobile suits into the theater would put her well beyond the distance required to "save" him if anything were to go amiss aboard the _Degwin_ yet she had relented, this plan required that all his pieces were active and while the Capule could be refitted to be stored aboard the _Degwin_ that would give the Federation far too much chance of impacting the mission should the submarine be discovered.

So she had gone ahead with his design, she along with the rest of their pilots and machines were stowed aboard the _'Valiant Journey_ ' a former deep sea cargo hauler he had stolen off of one of the Federation shipping companies nearly six months prior. It couldn't be helped despite the risks of seizing such a prize they needed something that could ferry a dozen mobile suits into the field and still have room left over for parts, munitions and other needed supplies. Not to mention it had given the men something to do while they awaited the operation to begin in full swing. As he pulled himself into the broadened and expanded cockpit of upper "head portion" of the Capule he slid alongside the pilot gantry and placed himself in the second control console behind the primary. He had to expand the craft for the sake of this mission, the normal Capule could barely seat one due to its rather limited frame but with a bit of work and some fine engineering on the part of Nakamura it had been an easy enough project.

"Orders sir?" He heard the frosted if somewhat flighty tone of his second come forth over the mic as he slipped out of the fatigues he wore aboard the Degwin and into the provided suit. Getting dressed within the tight quarters of the mobile suit into his stock standard black and gold trimmed normal suit that he had worn in service to Lady Haman's Neo Zeon wasn't exactly easy yet all the same it was something that had to be done. This uniform like their flag, like their homeland, like all the utterances of victory and triumph for their people was apart of their cause. The methodology, it was ceremonial. Yuuka for her part averted her eyes to give him some illusion of privacy despite the fact she had bore witness to everything that lay below the uniform many times before, he appreciated the sentiment if not the gesture. He hadn't had a sense of modesty or shame for quite a long time now. This was it, it had begun, soon they would be along with their fellows brothers in arms be racing into battle against their mortal enemies. At his behest, at his design, at his dictation and command. He let out a weary breath, this job was not one he had ever expected to take up, he had never considered himself to be a great mind, a military strategist, a man of brilliance and cunning who would be capable of executing some grand scheme to elevate their lot in life yet that was forced upon him. He could merely adapt and try his damnedest to ensure he was worthy of that. It was tight quarters within the darkness of the suit as it resealed itself and prepared to submerge despite the efforts of Nakamura it was obvious that this was designed as a one seater like many mobile suits and no amount of revision and expansion would change that without drastic redesign.

"Submerge and begin full acceleration towards the rendezvous point. Once we have landed you know what to do, act according to plan." He offered his subordinate finally. Yuuka Ashihana, his former would be protege of a student, turned from Academy Cadet into an Ensign in what was to be the final battle of their short lived war of independence under the auspices of the Principality. From there she had become a Zeon remnant officer stationed within Earth and fighting across its bounds ever since the conclusion of Operation Stardust nearly a decade before. Yet beyond all the accolades and titles, beyond her skill, devotion and blatant hatred, he had stumbled into something more. "Lieutenant." He stated bluntly as the machine completed its submersion and began to turn about towards the shoreline , its underwater propulsion systems already pushing them along thanks to the brilliance of the mobile suit designers of Neo Zeon under Haman Karn.

"You secured the ' _package_ ' yes?" He questioned aloud and despite him being to the back of her, of having no indicator of body language or posture due to the primary console and its piloting apparatus he could tell she stiffened at the titling he had given the individual in question. "Yes sir. It's done." She responded although a glimpse of the heat that he knew lurked beneath that icy veneer leaked into her smooth and almost robotic tone. Yet all the same he was pleased by the news, after all if that particular secret was discovered it would prove...most inconvenient for what he had planned, it would give the Federation leverage, and they already had too many advantages as it was.

"Good... **Olympus** can proceed as planned and on schedule." He stated evenly, yet that was itself more half truth then genuine fact, even if she hadn't completed that particular duty they were far too into this stage of the operation for it to be put off for the sake of a single person. No matter who that person was, after the initial portion of their assault had begun, but he could tell that his former student had something to say and from years of working with her knew that until he allowed her permission to air her grievances she would merely keep them contained but due to her...abilities it was best to keep her in the proper frame of mind.

"Yes sir." She offered, this time the tone was absent any sort of indicator he might have offended her, she had slipped beneath the icy, emotionless veneer that she had been known for back at the Academy. In the years since they had come to know each other he had put together a rough dossier on her mentality, and coupled that with what he knew of her personal history and it didn't take a psychologist to understand how her brain worked on a fair few things, so it would be best to deal with this here and now before they arrived and it became a full blown combat situation.

"Speak your mind kid." He offered gingerly as he tapped absently on a sensor board measuring the distance between the incoming coastlands and the _Capule_ , they had time for a brief conversation, even at full speed it would take a few minutes to cross a few dozen nautical miles.

She was silent for a few brief moments before she shook her helmeted head and sighed aloud. "I don't like when you refer to him in that manner." Now he had expected something but that? Truly that was eating at her? His usage of the word " _package_ " in reference to him? What else was he supposed to refer to him as in unsecured communications? Face to face or no, there could be no chances taken, risks had to be minimized wherever possible.

"What am I supposed to call him out here? Any detail that can be monitored or reported back to the Federation puts him at risk, and you know better then most what that will lead to. Its a simple safety measure." It was not as if he did not understand where she was coming from with this, it was just the way it had to be. Whatever he felt, whatever he personally wanted had to come second behind the requirements for the revival of Zeon, if she wanted something more then that then she should have never joined with him in this venture to begin with. She should have known better, he would put personal wants behind the mission, the objective.

That was how a soldier was supposed to think.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1200 Hours**

She had but a few minutes after the initial shelling began to get into position and complete her portion of the assignment. It had all gone according to his plan so far, the lines of communication to the outside world were severed by the detonation of M-Warheads that blanketed the region in chaff, radiated debris and high frequency radiation that rendered it a deadzone for a time, no doubt the Federation as a whole would soon become aware of the attack but for the moment they could precede. But they had to act fast, even if comms were down, their sheer proximity to civilization would soon prove detriment to the assault which why was she supposed he had been so eager to have someone on the ground floor of the base, some insider to slip among the chaos and retrieve what was required from the base's mainframes and archives, after all that was his sort of war.

Even in the most brutal and coldblooded of his attacks, there was always an underlying motivation, some hidden angle. Beneath all his poison, hatred and contempt there was a cold rationale, a logic.

No as much as he enjoyed the sight of Earth in flames, of its peoples broken and bleeding beneath his boot, he operated according to set objectives, and that was what his true aim was. Senseless destruction and death was simply his path to that goal. She reminded him of some of the Titans in that manner, perhaps he got off on the violence but it was merely a means to a end. Something to further the cause, and for now she would play her part as directed in this little piece of theater he had constructed.

She had to make this quick, none here were responsible for what the Federation had done, they would die in service to a government they believed in, they could die with the belief that they were doing the "right thing". She somewhat envied them for that, it was so easy to fight for a cause when you saw yourself as morally just, it was so much harder when it wasn't a clear choice between right and wrong, between loyalty to ideals and beliefs and the state you swore yourself to. Yet all the same, it was why she had to make these deaths painless, they did not deserve suffer no matter what that demented old Zeke had to say on the matter, all that would matter to him regardless were the results, he could glean his personal gratification from human suffering himself.

Strolling up the spiraling staircase of the observation deck of the command tower located within the center of the base, and thankfully out of strike range of whatever was lobbing high explosive shells at the base at the moment she steadied herself, it was one thing to contemplate this course of action but if she stepped beyond this minute threshold it would truly be the end of her former life. Yet what had loyalty gotten her? The city of her birth flattened by the corrupt bureaucrats? Truthfully some days she was glad that her father had passed however painfully from the cancer if only not to see what had become of Dublin mere years after his death. Haman Karn may have ordered the drop but she _knew_ , she knew what the Federation had done, what it had allowed. It may have been covered up, buried among the bodies of that once great city but she found out all the same.

 _'Due to him all of all people...'_ During their first encounter all those months ago she had acted the part of the loyal Federal soldier, tried to kill or incapacitate him and bring him before the Federation for justice. That obviously hadn't gone to plan but because of that day she could never look at herself in the mirror again wearing the same uniform she wore this day, it had been easy, so easy to blame Zeon, to blame some leftover relics of the old Zabi regime for that horrible act, for that barbarity. Yet it wasn't the truth or rather it wasn't the whole of the truth. She had learned of what the leaders of the Federation had done during the Zeon assault on Dublin, how they had fled, how they had wrote off the city. _'Groveling before Haman like vermin.'_ Her fingers tightened against the warm wood of her pistol's butt as rested her forward against the smooth and cold steel of the doorway. To them all those lives lost were written off as _'population control.'_ It was disgusting, was this what she had fought for? What so many of her friends had died for in the war? To have Earth itself thrown under the bus by the Federation's elite? Haman was dead, there was no justice to be had merely pinning that atrocity to her corpse.

But the Federation still existed, a government willing to write off millions of people, an entire city to save its leadership still existed. And it would be punished for that, and while she held no delusions of moral superiority unlike her would be compatriots...she would see them pay all the same for it, in blood.

As she pushed open the door she noted the four scrambling technicians and officers who were responding to the sudden assault, no doubt they were trying to bring up communications, to call for help. The base was undermanned, as it had been since the dying embers of the Neo Zeon War, after all the Federal military now had its new toy to keep the civilians happy, no need to waste taxpayer money on something as senseless as a military base on Earth itself. As one turned his head no doubt to issue either question or command her pistol rose upward, to chest level. The Colt barked within her hand spewing forth its .45 caliber payload into the first tech's torso sending the man sprawling from the power of the cartridge. Readjusting she fires again, twice more the harsh recoil is familiar, welcoming. The rounds strikes true another officer's face is shattered inward below the nose when the round impacts, the M7 twists in her hand's fighting her grip but she has to complete this task.

Two more shots and the room is clear, smoke and blood trail from the corpses of would be allies, and now there is no going back.

A choice made in private hours ago now reflects reality of the present.

Approaching the center console slowly with grim purpose in her heart she began to type upon the keys. Bringing up the command prompt before pulling the floppy drive from her pocket, whatever rested within this storage she was to inflicted it upon the Federation databases. Allow it mine and trowel for whatever it was programmed to claim. It could have been anything on the little card, worm clusters, viruses, spam or malware of any sort but ultimately that wasn't her concern. _'Best to just get this done...'_ If she was lucky by the time she was done here the attack would be winding down and no would see her slip out...with her just due of course. She wouldn't abandon her mobile suit to the Federation, she had worked long and hard to prove herself worthy of that suit, it was the final reminder of...better times. Back when she had her own command, when she was apart of an elite, special group, that suit was her sole link to the past that existed and like hell if she was going to leave to the greedy slobs here in California.

As the icebreaker continued its attempt to punch through the Federation firewalls and by the same merit scrub itself from their systems to obtain whatever data it was designed to siphon her thoughts again drifted back to her mobile suit. It would not be left to rot here any longer, no it had been degraded and debased enough in the following years since Gryps.

It was something of a stroke of luck admittedly, it hadn't been dismantled like many of its fellow Titan brethren in the aftermath of the war, it was used as a trainer suit of all things for newly minted MS pilots, it would no longer be do demeaned. It would once again be worthy of that iconic tilting that had caused Zekes to brown their britches in fear back during the One Year War.

 **Gundam**.

* * *

Steven Liu jolted upward from the simulator pod nearly smashing his skull against the canopy as the floor beneath him rocked from sporadic trembles, mere seconds before he had been acting the part of a soldier in a play war, a simulation to pit his skill against one of the greatest pilots that had ever come out of the Federation, one of the best mobile suit pilots in the short history of their place in war. To fight against a traitor who had turned against his own people when his morals drove him to join up with a bunch of terrorists.

"Get your ass out of there Liu we are under attack!" Roans the chief technician for the simulator VR program barked as the hatch of the pod began to lift off, its lighting cutting out just in time for him to be blinded by the fierce assault of the artificial bulbs shining down upon him. The chamber shook violently under impact of some sort of explosion which sent showers of grit, plaster and rock falling downward. _'What the hell is going on?'_ There was no war, there was no great insurrection against the Federation, there was nothing left to challenge its authority or military might. As he groggily got out of the pod and tried to orientate himself he he heard the barking over the intercom. "Enemy mobile suits have entered the base perimeter! I repeat enemy mobile suits have entered the base perimeter!" What enemy? Karaba and AEUG had disarmed and rejoined the Federation, what was left of Haman's Neo Zeon was last seen retreating as far back into deep space as possible after their surrender...So who was this?

Deep within the pit of his stomach he knew that he wasn't looking forward to finding out the answer to that.

* * *

The guards had abandoned their posting around the armory, it made her accessing the secondary hangar where her machine was easier but all the same it was disheartening to see. Though she supposed it was understandable, what were men with rifles to do against mobile suits? _'Plus I don't have to kill them all this way.'_ That she supposed was the true positive in this situation, she was no some mindless butcher. Not some war fanatic, not a monster...she wasn't like _him_. As fire and smoke trailed upward from dozens of impact points across the asphalt of the tarmac she passed through a first line of would be defense with a security gate she opened with a key she had pilfered off one of the corpses back at the command tower. The second defense was even less impressively bypassed by merely ignoring the camera laden corridor and walking through it towards the elevator. She no longer had to hide what she was, there was a pile of evidence amounting to what would be a death sentence already, and she longer had it within her to care anymore.

The Federation had written her off years ago, now it was time for that favor to be returned.

As the elevator descended downward into the lower halls were the test model was stored she felt for the first time in perhaps a year at ease. She could abandon what little she had come to care for in the interim since Gryps fairly easily, just as easily as she had been abandoned, at the very least this would provide the outlet for change, not just of the Federation but perhaps for all of humanity. As disgusting as the prospect was for her, what else was there? Leave the service in disgrace? Try to cobble together some sort of life as a civilian? To ignore what had been done to her? What the Federation had allowed to occur to Earth?

The sliding doors rolled outward with a loud clank of metal meeting concrete and she approached the downed machine, here it was resting among its fellows, older machines of Titan make such as Hizacks and even an old rusting Gabthley were stored down here, that the Federation hadn't smelted these down for scrap yet had been something of a comforting surprise when she had initially stumbled upon them all those months ago. she supposed she should thank them for that much. The history these mobile suits had witnessed should not be forgotten merely for the sake political convenience.

As she approached the suit in question she noted how it was stored upon its rear, its make was fairly easy to pick out even among such a line up as this. After all it was the only Gundam here, the only real Gundam on base in her opinion. Mass production or no, it was hers and she was taking it. As she climbed up along the pilot gantry to the suit, she couldn't help but smile at the machine in question, while she had only had it for a few months in that time it had proven itself invaluable, it had lived up to all the legends of the One Year War and beyond, it had completed her.

Then the Federation stole that all away along with everything else.

Her mind was a litany of technical specifications, yet the one that stood out at the forefront of them all was a simple titling.

 _'The RX-178 Gundam Mk-II Varient B or Mk-II B.'_

One of half a dozen machines delivered from the AE lunar testing grounds and plant to the Earth based Titan's for prototyping, it was her final machine as a Titan. While its paint had been changed, its weaponry changed over for training lasers and dummy rounds it still bore the visage of a machine of war. The stout and broad mobile suit had to her eye at first been something of comedic proportion yet its power, its strength and speed so far outstripped her old GM Command or even her newer Murasai she had all but demanded of command she be allowed to pilot the test machine.

She took it to war against the AEUG, against their Earthborne comrades, against any enemy of the Federation, of the Titans, of the peace so many had died for in the prior war.

It was time, now after nearly two years for it to be reawakened for its true purpose, not training infantile children, not acting as some dummy for test rounds or as a trainer suit. To kill the enemies of Earth, to remove the stains that blotted the Federation, to finally bring true peace, true justice to this universal century. The prospect of a Gundam fighting alongside Zekes though stilled her for a moment, before she couldn't help but let out a stream of hearty laughter at the mere notion.

So much had changed in a decade, the world had been so much simpler, so much clear back in 0079. Zeon were the bad guys, she had to stop them, kill them, prevent them from outright destroying humanity in a genocidal war the likes of which mankind had never saw before. Now here she was preparing to join hands with them, to bring the Federation down to its knees. It brought her no happiness, no comfort or warmth but it was her duty, she swore a pledge to defend the Earth, to defend the people of the Federation against all enemies, she knew in her heart that mandate applied to the Federation itself even if that thought was treasonous.

Perhaps they should have just killed her in the aftermath of Gryps that at the very least would have prevented this but no they had wanted their scapegoat to live in shame, to deride and mock, and demean, to rip away her achievements, to paint history to whatever they wanted it to be. To bury their own sins atop the graves of the Titans, it would not be allowed.

Keying in the twelve digit code to the cockpit she let out a held breath as it slowly began to unlock she had hoped that the Federation techies would be lazy enough to keep it on the factory default. They had not disappointed, as the canopy slide back revealing the dark interior of the suit she knew this was it, she had crossed the threshold, there was no longer any choice but to continue walking down this path.

The path of the sword, of the warrior, of the soldier.

It was time to get this mission over and done with.

* * *

As he stared downward at the burning collection of hangars, barracks, depots and military facilities across the base he couldn't help but feel a familiar grin creep across his face. It was good that this day had finally come, a day not of the inevitability of today but the dawning of a new era of war. All the preparations and chores that had paved way to this moment would forever be worth it if this succeeded; nothing would change that. His war, Zeon's war had finally begun once again.

His fists clenched audibly within the piloting gloves of his normal suit. This was his purpose, his destiny, his path. It was something only he could do, because that was what had been forced upon, a mandate, a sacred deed bestowed upon him by fate. He not Char would lead Zeon to its proper glory, he not the heir of Deikun would reclaim the homeland for the superior race, he not that damned traitor would strike the blow today. It would be he and not _Casval Rem Deikun_ that would do this, him and only him.

As Yuuka's Capule joined with its fellows breaching the outer perimeter of the base he couldn't but hope that his own mobile suit would be finished with its reconfiguration in time for it to make an appearance. After all he had spent the past two years playing the ghost, scarcely revealing himself, acting out through cat's paws and intermediaries. That ended today, it was time for the Federation to awaken to the fact that the _'Black Phantom of Zeon_ ' was not quite in fact dead. Perhaps even if his survival was confirmed they still wouldn't acknowledge it, that would be fine.

Let those ranking novices he would face off against in the future quake in their boots, piss their pants in their fear at the prospect of fighting some sort of 'ghost'. None the less if the " **Finstergeist** " was not ready for its earthbound deployment yet none of that would matter, after all that was his machine, it stood out, it was a silhouette that the Federation undoubtedly never expected to see again grace their radar screens. Not since the unit's 'destruction' all that time ago back on January 17th, 0089. Let that ghost machine be a herald to the end of the Federation.

A symbol of not only his defiance but Zeon's unwillingness to pass from this Earth without yet one more struggle.

* * *

 **AN: Well a lot of shit went down in this first chapter didn't it? The kick off of a new war perhaps. A new struggle between Zeon and Federation. With all the usual assorted twists and turns associated with Gundam obviously. While this narrative is a strictly fan driven project on my end I do try to live up to the standards I have seen set for the series in terms of storytelling. At the very least, my own standards. To that end I am quite happy to say that I have fully penned out the story outline and have decided just exactly where and how I want this tale to end, what its high and low notes will be.**

 **I have of course obviously kept in mind for future revisions and changes but as it stands this story is complete at least on the draft phase of things. Now you the readers simply need to await the writing of what amounts to these story boards and notes in actual process. In the mean time I do hope you have enjoyed this first chapter, this first look at my new chapter fic. Of course it will not be the only thing I am focusing on, I have a few one shots left to pump out to explain away the interim between this fic and the prior, or more specifically the Neo Zeon War based stuff and what happened after it.**

 **That is projects like Residual Impact exist, to explain away why certain characters are aware of events, people and such in the ongoing chapter fic. I am trying my best to craft a saga worthy of UC lore and I will do my best at it.**

 **With nothing more to say save perhaps I do hope you all favorite, follow and review.**

 **Till next time**

 **-Reborn Akatsuki**


	2. An Old Battlefield and New Soldiers

**AN: Well here are for chapter two of my newest ongoing story for UC Gundam. I have no note worthy news to comment on really for this chapter so I will just cut to the chase and get to the disclaimer.**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own Gundam though I still wouldn't mind owning it!**

 **Chapter Two: An Old Battlefield And New Soldiers**

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1200 Hours**

The sole downside to having spread particles before the operation was the one that was now plaguing him. Due to the particle's notorious effect of scrambling communications and burning out electronics he was forced to make do with simply observing. He could not issue commands beyond the ones given during the briefing he had delivered to these pilots days ago. Any minute or tactical changes would have come from every pilot on the ground, he could not adapt his strategy to fit the situation.

In essence it was the worst thing that could to happen to a commander of men.

Yet he was not overly concerned, no his men were professionals either the hardened killers of whatever organizations of Zeon forces he had stumbled into still operating on Earth that where willing to join with him in his mission or the remnants of the Neo Zeon battle group he had commanded since that day in 0089. Yes he had faith in his men, faith to see this done and while that faith did not extend to his would be defector all the same he could predict what would occur should she comply and follow his commands. Of course the opposite was true as well but he didn't have much in the way of contingencies should that occur, but given they had been unaware of the coming strike until it had already been launched he supposed he could conclude that she had joined with them.

He had her informed of the date of the attack, the when and where of it if not the means, something to minimize the risk of it being compromised should she find her flagging loyalty to the Federation bolstered. She knew nothing of the composition of his forces, the presence of the _Degwin_ , though given that no alarm had been sounded he supposed that including those details may have been beneficial, perhaps she could have advised on target placements. Though he supposed he had done adequate in that, much of the infrastructure would be rubble after this assault, the base would be rendered pointless, and that was all he could hope for, it would weaken the Federation's hold on the Pacific and allow them free reign to accomplish the next stage of the operation.

This first blow would merely be the prelude to the proper start of things after all, like Gihren, Haman and Delaz before him, his opening gambit was merely to reveal the first of his cards to the opponent. He wanted the Federation to become aware that even here, on Earth that Zeon could operate and strike with impunity, that his force was strong enough to strike at even military targets, once that was accomplished along with the operation goals of this mission they could depart, but not beforehand. After all, if the Major played ball he'd have everything he needed for the next stage of things.

Having access to the Federation's data archives after all would grant him much that he needed, particularly for the finale but those thoughts were of course best saved for the future.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1200 Hours**

Strolling amid the sandy beaches and hills of the outer perimeter of the naval base he was reminded of a time now long past. A time in which these sands would have been stained red, drown in blood, piles of corpse up to his waist, the stench of rot and copper permeating the air. This base, this region, all of it a decade ago had been caught in the midst of the war. Their war, the whistle and crack of artillery, the combustion of high explosive shells. The rush and heat of incoming waves of flame and fire, the struggle against Federation in California had been all of these things and more.

All of it ingrained into his memory forever, that desperate holding action, that pointless last stand in North America against a numerically superior force they could never hope to defeat. While the blood and bodies had been cleared away long ago, the stench of gun powder and rust long since faded, the carrion birds and maggots long since departed. The scars in the Earth remained, the impact into hills from shells, patches of sand turned glass from the heat of beam weaponry, spent and discarded metallic casing of cartridges still littered the area on the outskirts of the base.

While indeed the entire California Base perimeter had the sight of several battles, it was here, at Monterey that he had fought what was to be his final battle here on Earth in the name of the Principality. Here on the distant coastlands of California so far away from Side Three that he was pitted against a horde of GM's, air forces and assorted ground assault vehicles and tanks. Under the command of then Major Garret Schmitzer the rather infamous commander of Midnight Fenir, the Base Commander himself had already fled days before their eventual withdrawal. Indeed had fate proved differently that day in early December he might have been stuck on Earth fighting alongside that renowned company in their final battle in Australia as it stood though, he had forced to evacuate.

He had no choice at the time his J type which had barely been holding up since the raid at Jaburo finally failed him ushering into his second defeat, with another to follow at Solomon mere weeks later. Yet as it stood despite the fury of the war in space, despite all he witnessed in his months of combat and service, this battle here in California had been among the bloodiest of the fighting he had ever witnessed in his now relatively long life.

And now it was being relived in the present.

All the same though he wouldn't mind observing a bit closer then from where he currently was, after all it was his duty as the commander to witness his men's valor in battle firsthand.

 _'Besides...I need to be close enough to issue direct orders anyway.'_ So he could indulge his revere for destruction and still act in tactical accordance with his plans.

This would be a good day, so unlike that day in California all that time ago.

* * *

 **Twelve Years Ago**

* * *

 **Zeon Held North American Territories,** **Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **December 12th, 0079 UC**

 **MS-06J Zaku II**

 **1000 Hours**

"Can't believed I missed you all taking on a damned Gundam of all things." He groused aloud he tossed the half finished ration bar to the floor of his cockpit alongside other half finished rations, cigarette butts and other trash that littered it. Mouth still straining to chew on the tar like mixture of granola and preserved fruit. That shit was just disgusting but the majority of the supplies like the majority of personal, staff, munitions, officers and technicians assigned to the base at Monterey were mustered off into space days ago. That process had begun a week ago when it had become increasingly obvious that they would never be able to hold on to California's precious defensive line along the sea. All the factories, plants and technical facilities would soon be falling back into the hands of the enemy, and that was when the withdraw began.

HLV after HLV launching back up into space as quickly as possible, despite the base being fairly along the coast away from the Mexican border where the Federation horde was coming from, they had no illusions of being able to holdout against a tide of mobile suits. A tide that had been unleashed at Jaburo and had followed them back here to from where they had launched that ill fated assault.

"It was good fight." The warm if somewhat boastful tone of the Lieutenant of Midnight Fenir confirmed over the static ridden comms as she responded his complaining. To think that while he had the rest of the eastern defense line company were off fighting against a tidal wave of GM types the aces that made up the select corps of Midnight Fenrir would engage not only a horde of mass production knock off Gundams but a Gundam itself. He wish he had been present for that event in question truth be told, ever since coming down to Earth since the Gundam and Trojan Horse had been responsible for Admiral Garma's death had slipped through the North American garrison's fingers he had been itching to return that particular score.

He heard stories about that machine and with the death of an ace of Ramba Ral's stature at the hands of that machine and ship it was quickly confirmed, at least to him that they were more then just mere stories. That pilot and machine were costing Zeon ridiculous amounts of mobile suits, facilities and personal.

 _'Was it the White Devil?'_ That thought resounded within his mind amid the stillness of the prelude of the coming assault. Had Fenrir avenged Garma? He wasn't going to ask though. It was obvious it hadn't been, the Gundam responsible for that act undoubtedly wouldn't be lost as easily as all that, not to mention it would have been a PR coup that they could have declared to the world that even the greatest of the Federation could not stand against the military might of Zeon, as it stood though it was too little too late for even the destruction of a Gundam wouldn't be some mass reversal of fortunes. The military strength of Zeon's North America garrisons had been depleted by the mission to Jaburo and the destruction of more then half that force had left them would no recourse save to withdraw to space.

"Kries remember to keep track of what ammo you got left, it isn't like we have much to rearm ourselves with these days." The Zeon female officer and pilot known as _Sandra_ affirmed over the static ridden comms as their J types walked in tandem around the shelled out exterior of the base perimeter. Another push was coming, they all knew it, they had scarcely beaten off the prong the prior day, and the day before. Eventually a massed assault would overwhelm them, but until that happened they would continue to cover the withdraw of the forces and materials of the bases into space. California Base, once the strongest garrison force in North America if not the majority of the world had been whittled down to nothing, where once they had boasted a force of more then a hundred mobile suits...they now had less then two dozen operational units after Jaburo and several fierce days of fighting off the Federation across the borders of their territory...and when they were pushed back to the bases themselves.

Their Zaku made quite the pair his customized black and gold, his standard while her own the standard green factory drab yet adorned with the rather fetching sigil of her company. He had ceased requests for applying any marker beyond suit number and squadron since the disbanding of Typhon he just didn't have it within him to be fly the standard of a dead team. It was too macabre even for his tastes. An irony to be sure given that he bore their very marker upon the scarred and torn flesh of his arm, of all the places that the destruction of his C type had spared why had it been _that_ arm? That dark tar like ink still burrowed into his flesh, the symbol of the unit etched plain as day upon his flesh.

Yet all the same it wouldn't matter come the next attack what color his machine was, or what color those he was to be fighting with were. What unit or division or even service branch they worked within. Come the Federation attack they would all become brothers and sisters of battle.

"Rodger." He confirmed over the line, it wasn't as if he wasn't pressingly aware of just how precious every round within his Zaku's machine gun or its bazooka was, far from it. He was only too aware of just how scarce those resources were becoming here, no new munitions were being produced at the factories located within the facilities of the collection of bases, no new parts were being shipped in, no fuel, no ammo, nothing. They had to make do with what was provided to defend the base, what wouldn't or couldn't be shot back up into orbit. Yet all the same he wouldn't gripe about it to the Lieutenant, that would accomplish nothing, no grousing at here would solve none of their problems and thus it was utterly pointless.

They had more then enough to contend with in the Federation, they had no need to devolve into petty arguments among themselves.

He noticed that she paused at that confirmation and then he heard laugh aloud through the comms. It was...oddly melodic. "Why couldn't we get assigned a nice professional like you?" He heard her question aloud and he made no effort to comment upon it. It wasn't worth the time nor the headache to explain to her that he had indeed been in a unit very much like her own at the start of this war...no it would serve no one for her, or indeed the rest of Fenrir to find out about Typhon, the past was the past and they had much more to concern themselves with then a team that had ceased to exist in any sort of operational status eleven months ago.

As if to confirm his point another handful blips came into existence upon his active radar moving far faster then a team of mobile suits had any right to be traveling. _'Another bombing raid...'_ At the very least they wouldn't have to contend with those knock off Gundam's. They had been bombing and shelling the base and its perimeter whenever they had the chance up until now, trying to wear down the defenses, pinpoint valuable combat locations, test their reaction time to the assaults, all of this was just a probe for the inevitable counter attack, and with but a scarce handful of them left, it would come any day now.

"Heads up Sandra we have another incoming wave coming from point 704 south, from their speed on the active, I'd expect them to be Tincod or something to that effect. Can't tell how many from just the scan. Probably a few though...Call it in." He wiped away a spare droplet of blood that escaped from his nose after the fact. ' _This dry climate is hell on my sinuses.'_ Checking his ammunition readouts once more to keep track of the pitiful amounts left within his armament he had his Zaku stop in place as it reloaded its 120mm casting aside the relatively empty magazine in place for his sole remaining fresh one, he'd have to make this work with just a 100 shots.

As another droplet of blood fell free of his nose he grimly noted the dark crimson stain as the droplet fell upon his dark green uniform, even here and now months after the fact he was reminded every day of how his body was only barely holding itself together in the aftermath of Side One. The pinnacle of Zeon military medical technologies and treatments, reconstructive surgeries and even with all of that, even being bed and coma ridden for nearly a month resulted in...this. A body capable of fighting but not feeling, his skin was insensate, his immune system required weekly booster shots to even function, yet that did nothing to prevent the ringing that plagued his head, the steady throbbing pain that echoed through his skull during battle.

Without morphine he couldn't even fight now, he'd be reduced to a hacking, sobbing mess inside a few volleys of fire. Hopefully once he got back into space some more permanent measures could be found to reconstitute him, he would **not** be a dope fiend for the rest of his life. Yet even as that thought entered his mind his hands dug into his uniform of their own accord pulling free the small medical bottle that contained within the capsules he had been proscribed to take, multiple times daily...as needed.

Holy spirits of Zeon...what had Gihren been thinking sending him down below to fight on Earth? Him a barely functioning wreck, a castoff from the first month of the war, his skill persisted he supposed, he had experience, both as a soldier and commander but even so.

* * *

 **Present Day**

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Main Runway**

 **RGM GM III**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1300 Hours**

"Moving into position." He spoke through the commline to what little was left of his deployment, most of his squadron had been retasked to engage yet more incoming Zeon forces from the port. While he along with a handful of others were given the objective of securing and holding the main launch runway of the base against the enemy. It wasn't going to be an easy task but thankfully he wasn't going to be the thick of the Zeon suits, no he'd be giving the other forces supportive fire long range fire due to his current armament, only if things went horribly awry would he be forced to engage anything beyond a prolonged 'sniper's duel'.

As his GM made its way up the flaming rubble that had once been barracks, staff housing and vehicle depots on his way to reach his selected vantage point he couldn't help but think that if this attack had come just a few days earlier they might have been far better off. Much as he despised the newly formed Londo Bell having one of their strike cruisers in port during this attack would have certainly aided them but all the same, they were long gone and there was no sense hoping for help that wouldn't come. They'd have to hold out and deal with this assault themselves, the closest note worthy reinforcements were almost six hours away half way across the country.

As his GM lowered itself into firing position the machine acting the part of a soldier taking a classical marksmen stance his rifle's optics acting in concrete with his GM's primary head mounted camera scanned across the smoke and fire dominated battlefield. According to the last few reports the enemy had around half dozen to a bit more then a dozen machines in operation across the base with the majority seemingly concentrated at the port with the incoming wave of aquatic units. Though through the smoke and haze of battle he could make out a distant figure through ongoing conflict. At the far end of the base, at the onlook beyond the base past the runway.

"Who the hell is that?" Standing atop the mound overlooking the base, just beyond the fenced in perimeter stood a singular person. Clad in the same black and gold themed normal suit he had come to associate with Haman Karn's forces and yet there was something off about the figure. There was no indication that they planned to flee nor withdraw from the sight of battle if anything they were perfectly content watching the ongoing spectacle. Win or lose they were going to stand there and watch it unfold, it was an odd experience. Most would be getting to their mobile suit as rapidly as possible and yet this person could have come to the sight of battle without one, despite the force of the base now being directed against the Zeon forces wholeheartedly.

Just watching, observing. It was just creepy, there was something disturbingly macabre about the onlooker just gazing down upon the sight that was this clash between Neo Zeon and Federation. He couldn't make out any prevalent details, not from this distance, he couldn't tell gender, nor age, not through the helmed visage that was the sealed and pressurized helmet that the uniformed solider had donned but something was resoundingly wrong with this picture. Even among the Titans there had been those who had found the act of battle appealing, had drawn pleasure from it. From fighting, killing, but he had not once, never encountered a person who simply stopped to gawk at a ongoing battle with no apparent care if his side won or lost, simply breathing in the spectacle.

It was creepy to put simply.

 _'Crazy Zeke...'_ He shook his head, perhaps that was the commander observing the results of his force battling the Federation, if so he was about lose a few of his comrades in the next few minutes. He just needed to wait on the rest of the squad to engage the enemy earnestly and then he could begin taking out the incoming machines with well placed sniper fire. It was an old tactic true, draw the enemy out of potentially defensible locations and into an open area with a wide view where enemy marksmen lied in wait, but it would work here just as it had a dozen times over throughout his career.

Checking his machine's energy output and the rifle's own internal cell he was pleased by the result, he had a little over twenty or so shots, more then enough given the power of this beam rifle. It'd boil through anything short of enriched and reinforced Bi-layered Luna Titanium otherwise known as Gundarium with just glancing shots, against plain old mobile suit materials such as traditional titanium and high strength steel wouldn't prove any sort of protection, not even with all the particle dispersion that the enemy had unleashed here, no his shot would retain enough energy to be lethal, he knew it, he knew it because it had to be so. If they didn't stop this assault here, who knew what these old Zekes would get up to if they weren't stop here and now.

They came here with a specific objective, this was now just some sort of targeted revenge against the Federation, no there was something more at play here and he would be damned if he didn't stop the Zeon from succeeding in whatever objective they came here with.

"In position, awaiting assault team." He radioed out, the comm spewing static and garbled words in reply. The closer one came to the detonation point of those initial particle shells the worse the commutations situation got, if not for suit to suit radio no doubt they'd be at an even greater disadvantage but all the same, he hoped that the message he had gotten into his proper firing lane got through. If they couldn't end this assault soon, it would become a slog against the Zeon forces as they just became better entrenched, they had to end this as quickly and decisively as possible. Still though this Zeon outfit was unusually well equipped for stragglers, it made him curious. _'Just where the hell did they dig up old M particle weapons?'_ It made sense to use them of course, it'd debilitate their response with how it'd slow it down but those weapons were costly, rare. You were essentially wasting would could have been a reactor for a mobile suit potentially with every one used, and yet they had detonated multiple missiles.

Just how many resources was this remnant group operating with? All the same though however well financed, however well equipped or armed they were it changed not a thing, not his job, not his mission. His mission had but a single operational mandate.

Ensure that these men knew that they should have never have come here, that they should have never gotten out of the grave the AEUG and Federation had thrown them in two years ago. They would all die here, there would be no war to come of this, he would die before he let these Zeons kicked off yet another one of those insane little crusades of theirs.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Main Runway**

 **RGM GM III**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1300 Hours**

"Got you!" He exclaimed as yet another one of the aquatic units, this time an aging Z'Gok exploded into a blanket of fire and scrap as the beam round pierced its thick frontal chest armor and erupted out the other side in a flurry of sparks and flame. That marked his second kill of the past few minutes, apparently the squadron running interference at the dry dock was proving itself enough of annoyance that it was causing the forces there to try to reengage. Units that had been tearing their way through the base and causing all sorts of mischief and chaos were forced to try to defend their rear lines or else risk them being overextended and caught between two now strengthened enemy positions.

It all led to mistakes like this. Truthfully though he didn't know how well this battle would be going if they weren't up against such relic like mobile suits, most of what he had seen was taken from the days of the One Year War. Only a handful of suits so far witnessed were even approaching modern day, he had seen a Capule earlier along with a handful of Zaku Marines, other then that though it looked like a collection of walking scrap. Dangerous he supposed but not from this distance, not when they were busy engaging other forces.

The battle was reversing itself nicely, soon enough they'd beat off this pitiful assault and chase these Zeon rats back to whatever hole they had crawled out of. They have been surprisingly well equipped, but all the same they were relics of a bygone age. Another explosion rocked the base casting a glare or orange and red across his suit's optics as a two storied warehouse along the outer shoreline of the base exploded faint trails of particle energy dancing in the air around the flaming wreckage. As black chemical clouds spilled into the air he couldn't help but to shake his head. _'The Fuel Depot?'_ They were targeting the critical infrastructure that much was certain, with much of their petrol supplies now burning away anything that wasn't going to run off a reactor was effectively neutralized.

It was a smart play but it wouldn't reverse the tide of the battle, tanks and fighter jets weren't enough to go up against mobile suits anyway. Yet all the same, what if they weren't trying to effect the course of the battle with strikes such as that? He thought back to the initial targets of the shelling during the lead up to the attack, they were all critical infrastructure. Armories, hangars, command buildings, barracks, they had wanted to neutralize as much of their fighting strength as possible before they had even landed, what if that was just a continuation of it? Why though? Why would they got to all the trouble, sacrifice both mobile suits and pilots along with who knew how much valuable high explosive ammunition to demolish what amounted to a single base on the Pacific shore?

 _'What if this isn't just some suicidal revenge mission...'_ What if they had come here with specific purpose. The chill he had felt at the announcement of the attack resurfaced, nothing about this strike was adding up.

If they were trying to effectively neutralize their ability to pursue them from this location, they had more or less succeeded but why? What had they come here for? Why launch such a daring attack during the middle of the day of all things? What caused this?

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Main Runway**

 **RX-178 Gundam Mk-II**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1300**

 _'Still has a decent amount of power from its last training sortie...good.'_ She had been admittedly worried about the prospect of clambering into the machine only to find it about as useful as a 40 ton paper weight. That thankfully wasn't the case while its stock of propellant, fuel and its reactor timer wasn't exactly encouraging it none the less would suffice at the task of getting the machine away from Monterey and that was all that mattered at the moment, getting the data back to _him_ and freeing her machine from the Federation.

As monitors, gauges and sensors lit up around the cockpit she for perhaps the first time in months felt at peace with herself. At ease, this was where she was belonged, where she needed to be, she wasn't cut out for anything but this. Being a pilot, a soldier, someone who took other people's lives for arbitrary reasons of politics. Yes it had been foolish she supposed to ever expect a life beyond this sort of service, she had been content once to merely safeguard the peace that she and so many others had fought for. To preserve it, protect it from all those who would wish to shatter it and return the solar system to a state of war once more and yet...that had not stopped the AEUG, It had not stopped Neo Zeon, despite all the efforts of the Titans the Federation was beset by war again and again.

She fought against that, for the people of the Federation, for the people of Earth...

All it earned her was being tossed into prison on account of her being a officer within the Titans. For the crime of a uniform she was demoted, sent to trial for crimes she did not commit, imprisoned and dishonored and barely kept within the service at all. She had given enough to this corrupt government, she had given it enough of her life, enough of her time. No more would she senselessly bleed and suffer for it, from here until her death it would be her enemy, something she would fight against with all her being.

She would rip this cancerous degeneration out of the Federation with fire and blood.

The world would be remade and society would not long suffer under the rule of those so self important and entitled that they would be willingly cast aside millions of citizens for political convenience. To achieve this perhaps she would sell her soul to Zeon, to be labeled a traitor, a defector but all the same change was not coming from within, even the political changes that the AEUG had once fought for had been buried beneath the preceding war and the red tape of bureaucratic inefficiencies. No, this was the only way and as the primary canopy of the cockpit alight with the flash of monitors and cameras activating she knew this to be true.

Change could not always come peacefully, sometimes blood had to be spilled for society to be impacted as needed, and for the Federation's own gross incompetence and corruption to be rooted out...much would have to be done, the old Zeke had more less assembled an army she knew, he had weapons, and men to fight and this alliance of political convenience was the shortest path forward for both their respective goals.

He wanted the resurrection of an independent nation of Spacenoids without the yoke of the Federation, the revival of the old Principality. She sought a new sitting government for the Federation, to wipe away all the old and corrupted bureaucrats that ran it now, to replace them with younger, more earnest men and women who look beyond themselves and do what was best for all the people of Earth and space, not just their own profit margins.

As the front of the mobile suit became a clear image as the cameras focused she forced the suit to raise upward, standing perhaps for the first time in years to engage in actual combat. Perhaps since the last time she had flown it all that time ago, yet all the same none of its weaponry was equipped upon it save one of its inbuilt beam sabers that was still mounted upon the chassis, she'd have to make usage of whatever was lying about the secondary hangar. Hopefully there would be more then just old training weapons lying around, paint pellets and dummy lasers wouldn't be any good in a actual firefight.

Checking her suit readouts however revealed something she had missed, upon its rear storage rack was something interesting, a leftover of its time with the Titans. Pulling the thick metal shield free of her suit's back she smiled earnestly, they hadn't thought to take this at the very least, this Luna Titanium construct could double as a weapon,at the very least it could allow her to get proper tools of war into her hands. While it slowed her movement, and made proper coordination more difficult, it would easily make up for that in both its defensive and offensive utilities. Yet as her machine scanned the room taking in the various arms that lied upon racks and storage containers she frowned at the sight. There was nothing here that was suitable for combat, just old Zeon and Titan cast off weapons that had been converted to training modules; nothing at at all that would disable a suit beyond perhaps base damage, nothing that could penetrate even the old armor of a Zaku II effectively.

Not to mention the hangar doors were still sealed preventing her machine from even leaving the

But there were other means of not only gaining access to the base but also damaging yet another structure present within the hangar. It just meant that more of the Titan's legacy would have to be sacrificed.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Main Runway**

 **RGM GM III**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1300 Hours**

 _'Another miss?'_ Just how agile was one Capule supposed to be outside of the water? While he had never encountered one of the newer lines of Neo Zeon's aquatic MS in actual combat he had gone over the specs a few times during drills and simulations, this machine was either upgraded and tweaked to perfection or had a stellar pilot. _'Likely both'_. Knowing his luck he was fighting some ranking veteran that had been service since the days of the One Year War and had only become increasingly more deadly as the years rolled by and mobile suit technologies were enhanced. As the beam round shot over the target and the Capule continued to close into range for it own particle barrage he couldn't help but drift back to the days in which he had fought against the AEUG and Neo Zeon years ago.

There had been something to those battles, some clash of opposing ideologies, views of life, politics, something that pushed it beyond the bounds of senseless slaughter and wanton destruction for the sake of it. Yet here this seemed to be the complete opposite, whatever ideals and beliefs that these soldiers carried with them was buried beneath the intent to just wreak destruction upon the world, someone within his mind just reeled at the evident 'truth' of that belief. These were the soldiers who would see Earth razed and utterly ruined for the sake of whatever twisted ambitions they held, they had to be stopped, and he would stop them. Even as his beam rifle fired once more and the Capule nimbly avoided it by leaping above the shot, his rifle was cast aside in favor of his suit's beam saber as the Capule lunged downward its nailed gauntlets raised upward to impale him just as the beam saber came up.

The clash of hardened steel and particle resulted in his suit being forced back a step as the Capule was repulsed just to continue its own onslaught its claws still swinging towards his machine was if was going to bisect it with every attack, yet not a single blow landed thankfully due to some rather agile swordplay yet he couldn't keep this up forever. His machine wasn't designed to be a primarily melee combatant, it couldn't match the Capule in its ground based mobility but he would have to make do.

* * *

Having to avoid near point blank beam projector fire wasn't his idea of a good time but if he could gain some distance from the Capule he would only increase his advantage as he pulled back. This suit was built for close to mid range engagements while his own was built for medium to long range combat. If he could pull back to rifle range once again, he'd win and both pilots likely knew this which was why the Capule pursued.

Firing and lunging at every opportunity to land a blow yet with some quick maneuvering and footwork he was able to keep his machine intact even as volleys of beam fire shot past it. The oddest thing seemed to happen during that withdraw though, the secondary hangar just exploded outward, it had taken limited shelling during the attack but nothing that would have resulted in the fireball that erupted from within it. Besides the blast had been contained to inside the structure, not from an exterior strike or the result of ranged bombardment.

As the building burned in the background he couldn't help but to notice that the Capule had stopped pursuing him, it merely stood in position as if awaiting something. Ready to once again begin its attack yet holding back for the moment. 'What are you waiting for? What just happened?' This was all kinds of crazy, that Zeon nearly had him on the ropes and yet here and now it was just allowing him to gain the needed to range once again employ its beam rifle? What was this? The result of pride? Did the pilot want to die? Was the entire point of this suicide via battle? Yet that went against what he had observed earlier, there clearly was something behind this assault, the resources and manpower committed to it suggested as much.

This was a group with a plan. It was a bundle of contradictions within his head but as smaller secondary explosions and gouts of smoke and flame erupted from the wreckage that had been the secondary hangar his attention was diverted as what had once been a solid, if somewhat aged steel paneled wall roughly perhaps 15 meters or tall was shoved back he recoiled within his pilot's chair as he had his machine slowly pan his camera mount over there, ensuring that he kept the Capule and the drydock in sight as he did so was a pain but like hell if he'd turn his back on a Zeon.

As section of wall fell away it was soon revealed what had pushed it away. _'A mobile suit?'_ Despite it being rather difficult to make out it's profie through all the smoke and flame that was rushing about its frame he could see the tell-tale head mount of its primary camera. A Gundam. _'Is that a MK II? They had one of those here on base?'_ If they had maintained such a rare and limited Titans production MS here on base then surely he would have been notified about it, though perhaps not. Given how he was treated these days by the brass here on base, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that such an iconic weapon of the Titans would be hidden away from him, after all he had fought alongside MK-IIs in several engagements during the war with the AEUG.

The Titan's 'novice' pilot he supposed wasn't worthy of being told about the relic of a now bygone age that was just sitting in a secondary hangar rusting away. Thankfully however this piece of Titan's hardware would come in handy pushing back the Zeon here and now, maybe clear a little bit of the infamy away from its name while doing so. _'Best hail the machine so we can coordinate an attack...'_ He wasn't willing to trust the Capule to stay in place forever, it still being passive despite the Gundam's appearance was indeed odd. Even if it was just a mass production model you'd figure any Zeon that had fought against the Federation before would know of the awesome and devastating power of one of these machines.

Before he could even bring his hand up to hail the machine however it began advancing out of the hangar wreckage, its wide gait and pace made its movement seem stiff and robotic compared to the normal bipedal almost human like movement of a GM yet all the same he'd take all the help he got get right now. The rest of his squad was still fighting the Zeon at the drydock and he'd have to make do with any backup possible.

"GM pilot stand aside." He heard the familiar voice across the line and just stared once more at the machine.

"Commander? Why are you in..." He would never finish that communication.

He would never forget what she said next.

"I'm **defecting** to Zeon."

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Main Runway**

 **AMX-109 Capule (Yuuka Custom Variant)**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1300 Hours**

Across the tarmac beam sabers swatted away at each other and from her eye it wasn't even close to an even contest she could tell their would be defector was easily outpacing the GM pilot she had herself been contending with mere minutes before hand. 'She's good.' She could grant the Federation turncoat that much, even with a machine that had clearly not seen proper combat maintaining in years, something relegated as a trainer suit she was outpacing the combat ready GM platform handily, though perhaps that was merely because the specs of the MK II were so much better then that of any castoff mass production GM.

Proving her point a mere nanosecond later the GM left itself overextended upon a desperate defense and its blade was merely slapped aside by the MK and the particle projector fell free of the GM's grasp crashing to the asphalt and concrete of the runway.

Yet she was forced to turn her attention away from that to the figure that was still strolling about the battle ground seemingly looking at the same time completely out of place yet comfortable being among the wreckage of burning buildings, destroyed mobile suits and overturned vehicles. 'The Captain.' She couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight of that, it was so ludicrous. The man most important to their cause, a person that was so vital to this operation that if they lost him it would result in the complete collapse of their ambition, and yet he was strolling about as if he had no cares in the world, despite the battle ground that the base had become, despite the fact that death could so easily come to him without the protection afforded by a mobile suit.

She noted that he was signalling her and she was responded immediately, it wouldn't do to keep the Captain waiting.

Lowering her arm mount down to the runway when directed was child's play even as the battle between the two Federation mobile suit's was ongoing but a few dozen meters. The Captain had requested to come aboard once again which meant that this phase was over, her fun for what it was worth was done for this day. ' _Unfortunate_ ' She had scarcely killed five Federation machines before the raid was all but over but the Captain knew what he was doing, her task was to merely serve and in doing so help him accomplish what he sought to do. If he thought enough damage had been wreaked upon the Federation facilities then it had been, or at the very least enough of it to justify the losses taken this day.

As the Captain gingerly stepped into the awaiting claw as she brought it upward to the cockpit access he was already looking grim even as the hatch cycled and opened. She could tell he was somewhat at the very least eager to leave. _'Just what happened here in California back during the war?'_ She knew that he had lost machine in that battle, it was the end of the last Zaku he would ever pilot in service to the Principality, but beyond such scant details as that she was in the dark completely. She supposed it didn't make much difference by this point, a few snippets of his service record were more then she likely deserved to know of a battle she had not taken part in.

As their eyes met she could see the growing frustration within them. _'He wishes he could take part, direct things from within a mobile suit...'_ Her captain was so absolute in his devotion to his cause, to his men it was almost...heartwarming to see. That earnest desire was rare.

"Prepare for withdraw Yuuka, send up the signal we have accomplished the mission." He commanded and she would comply as he pushed past her pilot seat back into the further rear jump seat and secondary control interfaces that made up the rear sections of the cockpit.

"Sir." She acknowledged.

As she was preparing to issue the general withdraw orders via flare she noted that the MK II now had the GM solely at it's mercy, the beam saber's molten energized particle blade mere feet away from its cockpit and the pilot that waited within. 'Why has she not killed them already?' It was obvious that this had been no ploy on O'Sullivan's part, that she was honest as she had claimed within her communications to the Captain that she was willing to go over to the other side yet all the same...she was staying her hand here.

"Yuuka." The voice behind her startled her out of her thoughts and she gave a grunt of acknowledgement before launching upward a collection of piercingly blue flares into the bright sky of the afternoon.

"Do a direct suit to suit communication with the MK II. General broadcast." That was odd 'no encryption?' While it was true that this was easily the fastest means of communicating with a suit not already registered upon the com-net this would also leave it quite open to interception and possibly even leaking into other broadcast channels, whatever was said here could become public knowledge upon the battlefield within minutes. As she went open her mouth to inquire about this choice he merely reaffirmed it. "Yuuka. Do it." She would comply, it was his decision and he clearly had his reasons for it.

"O'Sullivan. Do you have it?" The question was simple and straight forward and instantly she understood exactly why he wanted do it in this manner. ' _He's burning all of your bridges for you just in case you get...second thoughts.'_

The reply came not a heartbeat later.

"Yes."

The Captain gave a nod that she could make out before his next command was issued. It was clear as day he was pleased.

"We are disengaging, the location of our forward operations center will be sent via laser burst to your onboard. I shall expect you presently."

* * *

 **Thirty Two Minutes Later**

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Deep Ocean Transit Supply Ship:** **Valiant Journey, 142 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1400 Hours**

They had served their purpose, the mission was a success, yet with the incoming Federation forces he admitted at least to himself, here and now internally that his options had dwindled down to perhaps one or two avenues of response. They could stand in fight, which would be a disaster, they simply lacked the firepower and numbers to emerge victorious in shape enough to continue operations or they could attempt a fighting retreat as they withdrew deeper into the ocean towards safer berths. Yet even if by some chance that measure proved viable, it would also give the Federation a clear indicator of their heading, their destination which likewise couldn't be tolerated.

It was far too earlier in the game for the Federation to be given a clear idea of just where they where heading, after all if they located their destination, what lay there be targeted and that couldn't be allowed. Overall he had one chance, one choice to make and it was a disheartening revelation that he had indeed predicted the appropriate measures to take beforehand. A trump card so to say, one that would undoubtedly mark him as a damned soul, even among the Zeon even contemplating what he had set into motion would throw him into the realm of figures such as Cima or Glemy. Yet he had no choice, not truly, or perhaps he had several and was simply too stupid to have foreseen other potential measures that could have allowed him another metric to survive the coming retaliation from the Federation.

Yes either he was starkly brilliant but a traitor willing to throw loyal soldiers to their pointless deaths to suit whim or he was a fool incapable of doing anything but capitalizing on that loss. Either way it bore no compliment to him.

He heard the crash of the impacting mobile suit striking the forward deck, the mere sight of the ' **Gundam** ' through the bridge's main viewport sent tendrils of revulsion about him yet all the same this suit would prove valuable in the coming days. After that mobile suit platform had been put to use for Zeon before, yes the soldiers of Zeon had made usage of the data provided by Gundam frames to design and outfit measures that would ensure the success of Zeon. Be it in their Doven Wolves or elsewhere, they had made use of that technology before, this time it would only in a more immediate sense. Yet with the arrival of the 'Major' he had only a few scant minutes left to make his decision.

If she had arrived here then the Federation had undoubtedly already reclaimed the base, though he knew that to be inevitable he had hoped for just a few minutes more. Still there was nothing left for it, he turned to Yuuka and offered her a grim smile of resignation. Tight and thin flesh wrapped around muscle offering minute comfort to the prospect of what he was about to offer his men in return for loyal service. There was no judgement in her gaze, no remorse nor hesitation she wouldn't remark nor offer condemnation upon what he was about to do. Perhaps she had come to the same conclusion, the same outcome as he had, that this was despite his sheer monstrosity at undertaking this, it was what was needed.

Or perhaps she was simply leaving her own thoughts within her head, not thinking her place to remark upon his behavior whether or not this was support of his decision or otherwise apathy ultimately he supposed it made no difference. It was his call to make, he was the one in command here. "They are targeting the submarine." He heard the offhanded remark from his second a mere instant before a plume of light plunged into the ocean, had they already located the Dewgin? If so then it merely confirmed what he needed to do, if the active sonar installations at the base had already pinpointed its general local with enough precision to guide in anti-submarine missiles into the region then there was nothing left for it.

A moment of silence passed across the bridge as he eyed the clear waters of the ocean before them if, if by some miracle the Degwin had avoided the round it could disembark, retreat, prevent him from staining his hands with yet more Zeon blood.

Amid the stilled and calm seas of the Pacific he could barely make out the Degwin as it resurfaced, its worn and scarred hull offering the faintest of landmark in the vastness of Earth's ocean. With the Degwin having surfaced, it having been located, targeted it was already over for Taylor he could not be allowed to share the secrets of Zeon's naval berth, he could not be allowed to interfere with Olympus. They needed those secrets to remain secrets if just for a little while longer, trading the submarine for a handful of days...a week or two at most.

It was a pathetic exchange, yet one he would eagerly take.

Sighing audibly his gaze turned to the bridge's main control station, its radio array, its transmission array, navigation and system control. Luckily for him this wouldn't take long, he just had to transmit on the right frequency to arm the device, a few seconds would be enough to start the countdown, and then well he'd need a drink after this, probably several and despite his doctor's condemnation, his own failing health...he would at the very least bury his memories of this day in a temporary haze, but not yet. Now he had to get work.

Walking past the men at stations even as the radar pings continued to confirm that there were indeed incoming Federation forces converging around the Degwin, undoubtedly ordering its surrender yet Taylor would not, no he would do his duty and die for the premise of their cause. The rebirth of Zeon, he was merely offering Taylor an out that aided in their own escape, he was stealing his choice in the matter. Denying him the honor of a worthy death in service to their mandate, it was shameful yet it was all he had left to him now. Pulling the small slip of paper free of his normal suit he eyed the detonation frequency listing for just a moment before ordering what had to be done.

"Begin immediate localization transmission at point .148 surface grid." Of all the acts he had committed his life, all he had done for Zeon, all he had given up, sacrificed, it was this and this alone that shone a torch upon just what the great leaders of their cause had done gone through during their own wars against the Federation. The pressure, the mentality they had to adopt, the cost vs gain scenarios that constantly had to be going through their minds.

Yet none the less he had to get into position, he could only hope that those modifications to allow earth operation were complete, if not he'd have to pass this bothersome task on to another.

"Yuuka...You have command until I return." He offered his second the brief order before he stormed out of the bridge, he had to get down into the holds.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **RGM GM III**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1400 Hours**

"Begin **immediate** pursuit. I am ordering mass deployment, everything we have capable of extended air travel launch... **now**! We don't have time to mess around here, those bastards are getting away!" Steven heard the command, despite the rolling chaos that was his mind he heard the order. He knew he should carry it out and yet...he couldn't even find it within himself to move a single muscle, little lone go through the process of firing up the thruster rig on his suit's backpack, no he couldn't move, he couldn't think, he could scarcely breath.

 _'I'm defecting to Zeon.'_ Four words. Four words that had no right in the world to carry the immeasurable weight within his soul that they did but all the same they resounded with his mind just as they had across the comms mere minutes before hand.

"Steven you awake in there? We just got retasked for the pursuit mission. Hello?" His chipper squad-mate intoned across the air waves of direct suit to suit laser burst comms. He shook himself away from his stupor, he could not fall apart here and now, he was needed, every pilot capable of further combat was needed, command was right. They could not allow the Zeon to get away with such a vicious assault, while the damage had been only moderate, the sting to his pride felt much worse. They had thought themselves safe from further Zeon incursion, this far out from Haman's little war, no one could have thought that any one of the scattered and disorganized groups of Zeon rebels could have prepared to such an extent for a strike like this.

It made him feel the fool in this entire scenario. _'She knew, she had to know...'_ Why else pick this moment to defect?

"Right, yeah...sorry I'm fine. Just preoccupied." A woman he had personally served with, one that had been his commander, something of a mentor to him had just gone off the deep end and defected to the bastards who dropped rocks on the Earth for fun. It was to put it mildly a worst case scenario, and to make matters worse she had turned over nothing less then one of the older but still clearly effective Mass Production Gundam units to them. Worse still she was a capable pilot in that machine, that much he could recall from two years ago quite plainly.

Fingers tightening on the stick he was just about to preparing the squad to launch when command once more broke through on the commlines.

"We have detected a launch from further out to sea, we can barely make it out through the particle dispersion but we have an incoming launch...standby for further orders" Was it from their submarine? Another assault craft? Shelling the base at this point would hardly result any more damage, most of the major structures had already been hit at least once and doing it again wouldn't slow down their pursuit so why? _'There has to be something more then to this then them merely wanting to cover their escape.'_ Within a few minutes every suit they had capable of long distance pursuit would be launching, this wouldn't slow that down, not one single missile.

"Whatever it is, we cannot let it stop us!" He directed over the communication lines to his squad, whom it seemed had likewise been stilled by the launch of the sudden projectile, unwilling to be victims of what could have been a renewal of the Zeon assault. _'I have to know...I have to know why she did this, why she would do this...'_ He would pry answers from his former commander, he would know why she would turn tail and defect, why such a renowned, tireless warrior of the Federation would do the unthinkable and defect.

The sooner he got out there, the sooner he could find out the answers to these questions that plagued him.

In this moment he could put aside whatever he felt, whatever plagued him for the good his men and the mission.

Bringing his hand up to the communication array he sent a direct transmission to command. If they wanted everyone deployed, they'd get it. "Talon squad to base command, we are preparing for operations against the Zeon submarine and offshore carrier. Please transmit all relevant radar and telemetry data to our onboards." They would sink that damned submarine and carrier, and end this once and for all. This would not result in another war, he'd be damned if he let these Zeons drag them back into another hellish period of weeks or even months of warfare.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **MS-14J ReGelgu V2 'Finstergeist', 137 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1400 Hours**

The cockpit stank of industrial solvents, fresh electronics, grease and artificial purifiers for air. It was a new machine, at least from the interior out he supposed even if the frame was built upon an older machine, the Finstergiest was one of a kind. The click of the internal commline broke him from his observation and he halfheartedly keyed the line. No matter how beautiful the machine he couldn't admire it from within all day, it was needed right now.

"Signal is good, alright...please go through the pre-launch checklist if you would Captain." Nakamura's level if some what croaking elderly voice broke through the line, he rolled his eyes at the request but none the less he would comply. After all he was entrusting his life, his hopes, to this machine, for it to carry them to completion. He keyed up the system registries and began reciting off the OS operating levels one after the other.

"Internal gyros are all registering green, fuel is good, systems are registering good connections, reactor is operating within acceptable standards." He listed off the shortened checklist he had to go over for his suit's 'maiden' launch. While it was more or less true he had been flying a model of this type for around a decade or so the new variant he had been informed by Nakamura would exceed any and all expectations he had set upon the creation of the next generation of his personal machine.

Which was not something he took lightly at all, while the standard Regelgu he had flown in service to Haman Karn years prior had been a notable step up from the aging model it had been upgraded from it still power many of the trademark limitations that suits of the era of the Zeon War of Independence bore. Be it in the limited amount of fuel or the rather antiquated sensor and radar systems aboard the craft, the "Finstergeist" however was designed to be the next generation of Gelgoog. A one off, a prototype to testbed all the latest and greatest that the former chief designer could offer. From increasing the total amount of thrusters and verniers installed upon the machine, to improving its overall base reactor housing and connections, to the new armor it bore.

It all came from the mind of Nakamura, and if it flew half as well as it looked...

"Rodger, be aware Captain that you will have far more thrust at your disposal then any suit you are used to in this unit." He had noted the additional thrust modules installed, even on the version that was meant for Earth operations, it still bore the enhanced 12 thrust rigging that Nakamura had been promising all this time. "The active thrust system has been dramatically improved, not to mention that the fuel lines and housings have been also reworked. But do not forget that beyond all these trivial cosmetic changes that you have now near twice the amount of actual thrusters installed aboard the machine. The standardized five thrusters design on the backpack has been replaced with an updated scheme you will notice the difference. More then double the amount of engines and the thrust will double. Be cautious of that or the power may creep up on you." The former chief designer sounded off, seemingly mighty pleased with just how he had tweaked and adapted the machine to its new form.

Not that he could really blame the main as the mono camera flared an ominous dark red within the hangar deck and slowly but surely the interior of the cockpit was replaced by a almost transparent panoramic view of the exterior of the machine he couldn't help but smile. No longer would he have to make do with monitor feeds and active sensor readouts, the amount of camera mounts for the machine had likewise been increased and could now provide a nominal 360 degree angle of anything within the suit's front. While anything to his rear would have to be picked out by the secondaries it all the same was indeed a major step up, he couldn't deny that. Truly it had been a stroke of luck picking up Nakamura from AE, a man of his talents and history shouldn't be relegated to the design bureau of some soulless mega corp.

"Check is done, open the ventral hatch and prepare for my launch, we don't have time for the elevator." The quicker they were able to accomplish this needed step, the quicker they could depart and continue onward to next steps.

"Understood sir." The aged technical officer and designer responded as the bulky cargo hold shifted as its upward hatch revealed the upper decks even as his machine primed itself for launch. The power of 12 dedicated thrusters assigned along the suit's back, feet, leg and shoulder mounts were revving in preperation for its first earth-bound sortie.

* * *

 _'Die with pride Talyor.'_ He could die cursing him if he wished but all the same it would be done despite whatever protest was presented, it was simply how it had to be. The man was going to die anyway, that was the thought that rang within his mind, the justification, the excuse, the paltry shield held aloft to protect him from all the scorn and resentment that would undoubtedly be directed at him in the near future. It would have been so much easier, so much easier if he had just planted the device on the submarine, it could have been played off of as a reactor breach and detonation or perhaps an intentional act of sabotage to avoid capture by the Federation.

As it stood though, it would be difficult to deflect suspicion when it was obviously his machine that was firing the warhead in this scenario. All the same though this had to be done and the quicker it was over and done with the sooner they could depart. He had written the _Degwin_ off the moment the efforts to destroy the majority of the base's forces had been neutralized, with their fighting strength still somewhat intact, any pursuit had to be forestalled as long as possible. They could not afford to have the next stage of the operation compromised, even if they had to turn their guns upon their fellows to ensure they had that time. If the _Degwin_ was simply abandoned then it would be ransacked for answers, the crew would be gone over with a fine toothed comb and eventually, someone would break, it might take the Federation a while but it would happen.

It couldn't be allowed, the secrets of Olympus would be buried in the sea along with Talyor and the _Degwin_.

The bulky launcher fit easily within his mobile suit's manipulators.

As the telemetry data from the Journey was transmitted to his machine via laser burst he merely allowed the targeting solution to compensate for the the rather short distance he would be firing. This fell well within 'short range' for this particular weapon given that it had been designed along with its warhead for space operations yet none the less it would serve for this purpose.

His gloved hand gripped the targeting stick even as his finger drifted downward to the trigger.

 _'I will not give into regret.'_ He could allow himself to mourn the costs of his own inability to take into account the sheer alacrity in which the Federation could pursue on his own time, this was not that time though. He would do what needed to be done and accept the cost of that act later, as he always had. "Firing Spear-1" He repeated aboard the onboard both as a declaration of the act itself and as a warning to his own fellows aboard the tank to prepare for what was to come.

This wouldn't be pretty, but it was needed.

"Goodbye friend." He whispered through his helmet as his finger pushed downward upon the firing stud. The launcher spat flame and fire as it propelled its payload onward, his monitor tracking the missile as it sped through the air across the pitiful distance that lied between the suit and submarine. Not even fifty standard miles stood between one point to the other, this would be quick at the very least as the rocket sailed onward he pulled his helmet free of his head and cast it to the floor of his refurbished machine.

He was done listening to the broadcasts, he already knew what was coming.

From here he could observe what was to come, witness what he had unleashed and see the end of it.

...It was the least he could do, it was the least he owed them.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **RGM GM III**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1400 Hours**

The flash. That was all there was, it was so bright even at that distance that it caused his main camera to shut itself down momentarily to avoid damage. One moment he had been marching his suit along with what was left of his squadron towards the beach then a light brighter then any he had ever seen before had bloomed out there in the ocean. Everything had just gone to chaos then, rolling clouds of ash, sand and tidal waves had forced them back shortly after the first concussive boom had arrived, the heated pressure waves of air that had just expanded across the sea and rocked their multi-ton war machines as if they were children's toys.

Helicopters and scrambling fighters were blown off course as sudden gales forced them collide or strike the tarmac mere seconds after lifting off, radial controls and automated systems sorted out and sent the vehicles careening as they were forced to combat the maelstrom that assaulted the base mere seconds after detonation. The expanding fireball of the blast sent forth its destructive fury upon them all.

The comms went to shit near immediately after with even direct suit to suit laser burst cutting under the effects of radioactive material that had been spewed across the region, by the time his monitor had finally switched back over into an operational state the seas were still rolling, the skies were blackened and stained, ash rained downward from the heavens. Like fat droplets of tar the snow like soot descended upon them, he had never witnessed a detonation of this magnitude before. Not even during the war against the AEUG, it was far beyond even that of a mobile suit's reactor cooking off, no this was something completely different.

However he only had to glance back towards the blast zone to understand just what had occurred. The faint grayish trails of smoke that was carried by the wind could not hide the tale tell cloud formation. It was like a callback to the old AD era, all the pointless and bloody land wars that had been waged by mankind upon itself beyond they had expanded outward into space under the banner of the UC calendar and Colony Construction Plan.

The sickly pale scar upon the sky, the radiated plume of hot ash and dust. The mushroom cloud told them all what this was.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **Deep Ocean Transit Supply Ship: Valiant Journey, 142 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1400 Hours**

"Brace for impact, I repeat all hands brace for impact, secure all loose cargo and fasten mobile suits!" The frantic commands were issued mere seconds before the plume of light scorched the sky aboard the ship, the warning klaxons and intercom continued barking even after anyone ceased paying them heed. They had no time left to prepare further. The waves that crossed the ocean and battered the massive cargo ship swept over the deck, the seas around them shook the mighty vessel as if it was a child's floaty. Anti roll systems engaged in earnest as the ship's automated systems battled with the raging seas about them, water rose upward in wave after wave as it rocked and assaulted the vessel, the stern dipped below the water line briefly just for the massive ship to regain its balance and more rose upward cresting across the sea.

Container slipped from moorings and collapsed across the decks, deep down within the holds the collection of mobile suits shook within their racks, munitions, fuel and other commodities spilt across interior of the makeshift 'hangar'. Lighting flickered and bulbs burst, monitors burnt out their screens and radio transmitters screeched their wrath as the electrical disrupting effects of the blast swept over them. She knew that the ship's critical systems would be fine, they were hardened, had been hardened just in case of such a scenario, it had been a time consuming process for a mere probability but now that preparation would save them.

 _'The Captain may be no mystical seer or Newtype but his preparation is second to none when it comes to combat.'_ It had all been at his behest after all, all the steps and precautions take that would ensure their success. The simple fact they even had the warhead aboard in the first place was testament to that. Had he predicted the need for it or this was merely a stage of the operation she had not been informed of? It mattered not ultimately but she could not deny her curiosity was present.

The sudden storm abated just as quickly as it had come yet this was not the end of it, no this was merely the beginning she knew. **Olympus** had just begun.

Salt water stained the primary viewport of the bridge's command tower yet even through the haze of water they could still see the blast.

As the water stilled, as the fury of the ocean ceased all they were left with was that light, that transient fireball.

Yuuka steadied herself well enough after the blast wave had passed over the ship and the resulting waves had lent the worst of their fury against them, with nature spent she was left only with the sight of that column of ash and fire that carved upward across the sky itself. The spectrum of colors that danced across that sky like falling hunks of glass reflecting and refracting light made it all the more vibrant in the piercing afternoon sun.

The contrast of orange, red, black and brown made the day seem as if it was a painter's canvas, despite the destruction wrought and the tool employed.

"Its beautiful..." She remarked contently. The fading blanket of mist and falling water reflected in her earnest dark eyes. She knew what he had hit, what he had been aiming at, overkill for one submarine perhaps but it would also be a show of resolve, not just for the Federation but for all of Zeon as well. That they would stop at nothing to win, that they would all sacrifice and give up their lives for the completion of the mission. _'And we will...if it means making what he envisions reality, I will die.'_ She was content to play the pillar to support the foundation of the world he would bring about. She had lived a good life under his direction, through him she had finally found a purpose beyond base killings, finally found something more then being a mere avenger.

Finally became more then a soldier, more then some senseless petty killer. The Captain had a vision of the world, a dream of how things could and should be and that, that was enough for her. She had set aside her personal grudges, her personal baggage to serve. Her role had become that of his second, his commander, his soldier, his weapon, she was simply...his. Through that she was given something infinitely better then the perpetual juvenile rage that had ruled her since childhood, through him she had gained power, power beyond anything she could have dreamed of prior. But even beyond the power she had found something superior, something she was willing to fight fight, beyond even the vision provided by the Captain, beyond even what he sought to make real.

She had found something worthy of herself to pass on to the next generation. Yet to have that occur, they had to win, they had to succeed and for that she would give up anything and everything to ensure that came about.

Yes she would see this through, enforce upon the world the vision he sought to make reality and when his new world was born...yes that would be a good day indeed.

Yet for the present they had accomplished this stage of the operation, the Pacific fighting strength that the Federation boasted of in North America was shattered, not only that they had accomplished the **secondary objective** as well due to their _'recent arrival'_. With the information she had brought they were one step closer to the completion of **Olympus**. One step closer to the destruction of the Federation. Yet the Federation, the vile people that sheltered and feasted beneath that cancerous banner were merely the beginning, destroying them would only allow what he sought.

Yes petty destruction was merely the interlude.

More then that though, what they would accomplish soon...

They were going to reclaim their future.

Amid the crackling of the comms and the chaos of the internal communications aboard the ship that filled the bridge with noise that drowned out even the moaning and complaining of the crew and soldiery aboard she heard the paper thin almost whisper like voice that came in over the static and noise.

"Returning to base, mission accomplished." The Captain would return to them and they would then depart to the next phase of the operation, the next phase of the war.

This was a victory today, yet it was merely the first, they would not stop here.

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **RGM GM III**

 **June 24th, 0091 UC**

 **1400 Hours**

As gusts of heated air and gales of wind bombarded the shoreline and kicked up mounds of dust, grit and sand that were cast aside as if by a typhoon by the pressure wave that had extended outward dozens of kilometers from the site of the actual detonation. His suit weathered the storm if only just, the truth was that despite his suit bracing against the incoming roll waves of air, debris and heat it was still being damaged by it. Sensors, radar mounts and other hardpoint equipment like the communication suite were not spared, even his main camera caught stray grit and sand that impacted it with the force bullets due to the speed of the expanding pressure wave.

Yet there was one thing that came through despite the rolling waves, the debris and wind. There amid the chaos of nature was out there in the ocean, dozens of kilometers outward was where a second sun had been briefly born. He had thought it was a reactor being detonated, a beam round had struck the wrong area and it had caused a explosion at first but no, this was no fusion reactor being breached, its remaining energies expended violently no...this was a nuke, a fission bomb. A nuclear warhead designed for the sole purpose of warfare.

As his suit detected faint traces of radioactive materials within the very air itself, it was just an after thought, a base and pointless confirmation. This was real, they had actually done it, no one had seriously thought that even the Zekes would stoop to something like this, this far out from the One Year War. Did their frothing at the mouth hatred at the Federation had no bounds? Did they despise the Federation this much?

This was no accident, this was no stroke of misfortune or conflicting orders amid the ranks of the enemy no. This had been done for a purpose, there had been a order given, an order issued for the usage of nuke to authorized. How had this happened? How had a ragtag group of leftover Zeons get their hands on a nuke? How many old Zeon fission bombs were left these days? This drifted back to the ghost stories at the close of the One Year War, he had heard about it through the grapevine when he was going through training. Some senior Titans had remarked that nuclear stores at Granada during its occupation by Zeon had vanished by the time Zeon abandoned the settlement after the war.

A cache of dozens if not hundreds of nuclear weapons just disappeared into the ether. Was this one of them? Were those Zeon in possession of more? O'Sullivan had joined with **these** people? Why would she betray them to join in hands with people who would detonate nuclear devices? Why would she join with Zekes so off the reservation they'd split the atom? Insanity...it was just insanity.

No matter what he had to say about the matter, no matter what he or anyone else would care to think, believe or hold stock in there was just one simple evident truth to be gleaned from this. One piece of information, one fact that could not be ignored or else they would all the pay the price for that arrogance, that disbelief. It was simply reality. To deny this was simple foolhardiness, the dissipating mushroom cloud, the place where thunder and air had cracked together and rent the sea itself were proof of this.

 **War had come to them all once again.**

Yet beyond even that...was the sobering realization that it might have very well have been thanks to one of their own that the Zeon had even managed to pull this off. Just how far did Meryl O'Sullivan's treachery extend? Just how long had she been playing them all for fools?

* * *

 **AN: Well...Boom I suppose.**

 **Heh I hope you enjoyed this second chapter in The Sword of Zeon and will continue to enjoy the story as we go through this journey I have penned out together. So far what little feedback I have gotten on this story has been positive and that is definitely a plus I am glad that a few are enjoying this story even if it is relatively ignored on the site itself.**

 **With little more to add let close off here and do my usual request for favorites, follows and reviews. (Very short AN's for this chapter)**

 **I hope to see you all again for the next chapter and until then have a pleasant day.**

 **Till next time**

 **-Reborn Akatsuki**


	3. Regrouping in the Yellow Sea

**AN: Well it has been a while hasn't readers? I do apologize for my rather...notable absence but as is the case with much in life it wasn't exactly my choice but here we are months later and I am finally releasing this chapter. I do hope it has been worth the wait and you do enjoy it, please let me know what you think of it in a review.**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own Gundam sadly**

 **Chapter Three: Regrouping in the Yellow Sea**

* * *

 **Bohai Sea, Northern China, Earth**

 **Deep Ocean Transit Supply Ship: Valiant Journey, 57 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **July 7th, 0091 UC**

 **900 Hours**

The voyage across the Pacific into the Asian territories had been a constant source of dread and fear for all aboard the Journey even for himself, admittedly but now that they had finally arrived back to something that could be called a ' _home berth'_ spirits were raising again. The Federation had launched a few token pursuit forces and probes undoubtedly to uncover them but within the deep and vast oceans of Earth, a single vessel no matter how large could easily disappear. The North China Sea had been the launch point of their raid towards North America and while it would not remain secure forever, they had bought the time needed. With the sacrifice of the Degwin and its crew of almost 40 they had purchased the several days needed to reach port.

From the forward observation area of the bridge the Captain of Zeon had observed the incoming structure that stood out within the seas that blanketed China's eastern shores. That had been their home for almost a year now a aging if still stable and even somewhat operational offshore platform, once used to draw oil from the sea floor it provided a weathered if adequate shelter against the Federation. While the oil had long since ran dry the machinery and facilities that once refined and processed oil for shipping to the shore still was capable of operation. He had no need of such things but the power output required for those facilities and other electronics on the platform gave the base an ample source of energy that could be redirected for all manners of things.

The rusting and paint peeled monolith within the sea had been a derelict when he had stumbled upon it all those years ago back during the war. Some castoff remnant of the old AD era still clinging to the present yet here and now a decade and change later he was making use of that discovery. Having the base converted from its original purposes to a offshore barracks, a communications array, an armor, and even should he be so bold as to declare it such...a fortress had not been easy nor inexpensive yet all the same with the coffers of the company behind him he was able to afford the repairs, reinforcing and even arming of the platform. It had not been the expense however that had proven the issue, it had been transporting and getting the materials and needed personal and skill aboard it to fix the ailing structure.

When he had first found the offshore platform its mooring had long since collapsed and it had drifted further and further out to sea, being battered by decades of fierce summer storms and having no upkeep had left it a hollowed and rusted out wreck. He could have had the entire Zeon military's corp of engineers and he doubted they would have been capable of doing much with the structure within the short period he had but he had accomplished the impossible a decade later. The central structure had been rebuilt and fortified, the mooring once more firmly shackled to the ocean floor below, the support and primary platforms repaired and refurbished as best as could be done with only a scarce handful of months at their disposal with the outcome of the Garvey incident. All and all the Tianjin had been perhaps the most costly stage of Olympus for its earth bound stage but it was a vital one none the less.

It provided everything they needed for their operations here Earth side, from a place to restock on fuel and munitions to having a safe harbor from the pursuing Federation. Here in the Bohai they could catch their breath, and check in on their other forces and personal stationed all across the globe, with the Major's joining them the next stage could be cleared from his checklist a bit sooner then he had expected. All in all things were looking up.

By now the Zeon forces in Europe had made their presence known and while he would have no confirmation until actually boarding the platform and establishing a somewhat secure line of communications to the Lisbon team he knew they wouldn't let him down. After all he was a believer in the possibility of future generations, the children of Zeon today would go on to build wonders that older members of their society such as himself could scarcely even imagine.

This he knew.

Grans and Drexler would prove themselves worthy of the gift he had bestowed upon them with this operation and once Europe was once again smashed beneath the steel steps of Zeon mobile suits, they could proceed. The Tianjin loomed before them all, it and its precious cargo.

* * *

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1,** **Bohai Sea Northern** **China, Earth**

 **July 7th,** **0091** **UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remnants Asian Headquarters**

 **1200 Hours**

As he stepped off the massive gangplank of the Valiant Journey he was met by a cascade, a symphony of cheers, to his forces he knew his return meant one and only one thing. The first victory in their renewed war had been achieved, California Base had been successfully neutralized, if the raid on Lisbon went well then all the forces centralized in regions that could immediately respond to their next phase were all but eliminated, all the concentrated pockets of Federal military strength sapped away. His eyes scanned the assembly of dozens that lined the deck, from pilots to engineers, from infantry to technicians, all these castoff soldiers, remnants of the Principality, Delaz, or Axis were assembled here and now for him. Their uniforms were a odd mishmash of varying generations, degrees of general upkeep, and more, some of the older men and women who had fought under Garma, Dozle and Gihren back during the first war's uniforms had long lost the stark green drab of its initial make and long since faded into a more diluted greenish gray from wear, exposure and no maintenance. While the younger soldiers who had accompanied him down from Axis under the service of Haman still bore the fresh printed black BDU's and Green service drabs with little to no age to them...yet, it was yet another reminder of the generational gap between those that had retreated into deep space following their defeat all those years ago and those that had remained landlocked here on Earth fighting ever since.

His left eye drifted to Yuuka as she accompanied him down the metal walkway on to the primary receiving decks, the massive platform overlooking them as if steel giants gazing outward. She bore the scars of her fighting with the Federation as well, new scars had joined the old, given by the same enemy that had applied them the first time like all those years before. The Federation continued to mar and destroy what would not surrender to it, its behavior to rejection of its own self given rule of Humanity persisting in the same fashion as it had since the early days of rebellion against that rule. She was not alone in having gained additional markings given in their cause, in their battle with the Federation, though he bore them with no pride he too had been disfigured at the hands of the Federation, the results of that damned raid on Side One all those years ago were still etched into him.

From the torn face, muscles shredded, bones shattered, to all the complications that had resulted from his exposure to the vacuum, they still plagued him even passing twelve years after the event itself. Those injuries were killing him here and now, the Federation would eventually kill him he reasoned, either in battle or through wounds they had inflicted so many years before, it made no difference he reasoned, though if he was to be honest would prefer a death in battle. Combat, not wasting away slowly in a infirmary somewhere, rotting in a bed until death claimed in him a haze of pain numbing anesthesia.

He grinned as he saw the Major follow after them descending down the plank to the docking array after them, no doubt this was still something new to her, after all when they had last met it had been in combat, when she had last saw the soldiers of Zeon it had been as foes, not as allies. Yes, this situation was likely fairly surreal for her, there was little doubt to be had there. She stood at odds with his force of irregulars admittedly, still dressed in the standard Federal fatigues, and as she descended down to the docking platform, he could see that many of his forces bore looks of confusion, outright hostility and the deep seething hatred of the Federation that he had come to expect, and even encourage from the men under his command.

It wouldn't do for this to spiral out of his grasp so a introduction, a proper one would be required sooner rather then later merely to cement to his force that Major O'Sullivan was here as a honored guest, a new ally to join them in their crusade against the Federation, so pulling his commlink free of his belt and with the mere swipe of a finger, accessing the localized network and tying into the PA system he spoke into the receiver.

With his voice echoing out across the exterior of the platform he noted that now, no one was looking even vaguely in the direction of the Major any longer.

"To all forces on the Tianjin, I have returned, squadron commanders and team leaders expect debriefings within the next six standard hours, I want to be updated on all ongoing projects as well, until that time operate under standing procedure." With a crack of static the transmission cut out and with a slight grin directed to the Major he began the long descent up the docking array's various walkways, service corridors, and long descending staircases into the superstructure proper. With the assault on Lisbon to begin within just a few moments, he really didn't have all that much time to waste, as the walkways, and corridors gave way to a lift that would take him directly into the interior of platform his thoughts drifted to the planned attack.

Lisbon had survived the initial Zeon assault back in the heyday of the Principality: **Second Descent** although barely. He wondered how it would fare today. Ultimately whether or not the city persisted past today was irrelevant so long as the standing objectives that brought his forces to it were completed but its continued existence was a standing defiance of Zeon that persisted back a decade. So if it were utterly destroyed on this day, he wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

* * *

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1,** **Bohai Sea Northern** **China, Earth**

 **July 7th,** **0091** **UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remnants Asian Headquarters**

 **1300 Hours**

His attention the image of Lisbon burning didn't waver even as the already deteriorating image of the city engulfed in chemically induced flames, destruction wrought by beam weaponry and missile barrages worsened with the collapse of the Abril Bridge, one of the few landmarks that had been left standing during the initial Zeon invasion back in 0079. Yet for all that, it wasn't that he didn't wish to look away to confirm with the communication staff here on the Tianjin to confer with his subordinates in Europe and congratulate them on their success it was because he couldn't. his legs felt leaden. Moving a single step seemed beyond his grasp, even turning in place likely would be impossible, it was if he was simply paralyzed while still standing. It was unlike any sensation he had ever felt before within his life. He felt the convulsion traveling upward from his chest a mere instant before he felt the familiar piercing agony radiating through his skull. Head bobbing forward as liquid traveled outward through his throat, bringing his hand upward to his mouth he felt the hot liquid stain his glove crimson. His eyes fell upon the darkened leather of the glove noting the dark crimson of his own blood adorning it, admiring it. Yet more fell to the polished deck of the command and control room trickling from his mouth and nostrils.

His usually tactical and quick mind was slogging under the piercing migraines that usually made up his fit even as his chest throbbed outward straining against his uniform with each and every struggling his vision swam and his body felt deadened even as the throbbing pain continued to wrack his chest and throat, bringing his left hand upon the tempered glass of the monitor he had been observing mere moments ago to steady himself. Leaving a trail of red from his own life's blood to stain the transparent material. His strength seemingly leaving him, his hand fell limply away from the sleek glass of the monitor. His body felt statue like, the deadened sensation he would normally feel upon his left arm seemingly present throughout his entire body

He didn't feel his legs giving out, but he did see his field of sight lowering as he sank to his knees. Eyes still focused outward even as the quality of his vision continued to deteriorate with seemingly every passing second. As a pilot he had prided himself on his excellent vision, he doubted he could even successfully pilot a civil freighter little lone a mobile suit at present.

Another convulsion rocked his frame even as bloodied spittle impacted the deck below him, his teeth stained crimson were clenched downward. Despite the deadened feeling that seemed to plague his body he still felt that all encompassing pain that was radiating outward from his skull, tears streamed downward from his left eye.

He gasped for breath even as he tried to force his body upward, he would stand-willing his body forward every ounce of strength he possessed only resulted in another wave of rolling convulsions, his vision was nearly absent entirely now. All he could see was the dark void of space, the pacing and events of the battle were now beyond even his observation. _'No. No. No.'_ That mantra repeated in his head, he was a survivor, he lived through the deadliest war in human history, he was a soldier who always made it back to base alive.

 _'Not yet...I can't die yet.'_ Why had he escaped death all of those times? Survived all of those battles only die to here and now? He had faced death so many times he had stopped counting long ago, and yet here it was and he felt the fear of the end creep into him. He had always expected the end to come quickly and yet this seemed long and drawn out, his normally deadened body was aflame, awash in fire and pain. Vision fading to black he heard the sound of his own head making impact with the thick steel of the bridge floor. He tasted bile and blood upon his lips, the warmth and texture of it seemingly the only thing in existence for that second.

This would be the end of him then? He had survived the collapse of the Principality, survived the long trip into the exile of Axis, had become part of the new government of their people...prepared it and strengthened it for the coming war and then fought that war just as he had originally under the Principality with all the gusto and ability he possessed. What had that been for? What had the purpose in his surviving The so called 'One Year War' and the 'Neo Zeon War'? To die here and now just when they were on the verge of recreating their homeland? What had he contributed to the glorious society of the Principality of Zeon? Why had he persisted when those far more valuable then he died in its name? Why out of the billions that perished in their war did he continue to draw breath?

It was an unexplained twist of fate yet it had occurred.

He was part of a living ghost, a historical footnote he supposed...some remnant group of yet another fragment of what had once been the greatest nation ever built by the hands of mankind, but he had contented himself to the role. He had become the commander his people needed, just as he had done for Axis a decade before. He had sworn himself to his new nation of Axis just as he had his first and for a time it was alright, he had endured the humiliation of having to abandon the homeland, he had endured the painful exile into deep space over the twenty month journey to Axis along with Admiral Karn's fleet. He had sworn himself to his liege the infant Mineva, had borne witness to her coronation and the crowning of the final Zabi. He had dropped to his knees before that child and her mother and swore upon his very life that he would see her sitting upon the throne of her grandfather or die trying, yet even so the memories of that war had never left him.

All the battles, blood and chaos rendered meaningless in the final instance of the war, what was given to him other then defeat? He had endured but it had been a painful descent, once he was one of the most highly regarded pilots in the entire Principality, he had been a instructor at the Academy despite him merely being a Lieutenant. He had fought battle after battle in that seemingly never ending war only for it cost himself everything and everyone he had ever believed in, even as his leaders died and the flag he had sworn himself to was thrown down he had endured.

So perhaps Zeon would endure as well, after all Zeon was more then a mere state. More then the Zabi family, more then Side Three it was a ideal. It could and would outlive him, and that was something he knew the Federation would never understand-even if they stopped Zeon here and now, prevented his planned rebellion against them...someone would merely step past his corpse and try again and again and again in a never ending cycle of death and hate until one side or the other was completely obliterated from living memory. That thought brought him a small notion comfort, his life was ultimately a small thing...a fragile thing. He had escaped death time and again, but eventually he supposed it would have to end like this one day if not here and now perhaps within a mobile suit or before a firing squad of Federal soldiers but eventually it would have to end. He had known once he had become a soldier all those years ago the likelihood of him dying peacefully in his sleep surrounded by children, family and friends was a unlikely scenario to say the absolute least.

But Zeon would not die with him. His eyes were opened he could feel the strain of the light against them even as he saw nothing, what would happen to Mineva now? Would she remain in hiding safely upon Earth? He had never been able to locate the true heir to the throne of Side Three, one of his many, many failures since the collapse of Neo Zeon as he saw it. He had failed Haman, then he had failed those that were pushed under his command, the only thing he could offer them after his death was life itself, a retreat away from yet another collapse of Zeon. He had failed in his alliance with Garvey he had thought they could use the man, his hatred and resources would be useful, yet all they had done was cost him yet another old comrade, and valuable pilots and mobile suits...he had now failed Imke alongside Yuuka...and even his infant child, he would die here and now and leave them all behind, just like he had failed Mineva yet again. He had hoped to find her, to revitalize their people with her grand return, a new declaration of war yet...it seemed it would not come to pass. _'I regret leaving your service so soon my lady but I am afraid I must go on ahead...'_ He heard the frantic impact boots hitting steel grate as his hearing was reduced to just the throbbing beat of his own heart, it seemed the medical staff had likely arrived. He felt the warmth of the blood flowing from his nostrils and lips even as that sensation became distant and numbed.

 _'I'm afraid...'_ That realization bit him deeply, despite all the times he had stared death in the face he still feared his end. He feared the nothingness that awaited him in the void beyond this life. He feared that nearly as much as the failures that anchored him to his memories, to the present and if by some twist fate should he live, the future. Those he failed, they would persist in this life, yet forever be ruined by his absence, he had forced himself upon them, in doing so he had given them reasons to persist past their own losses, assisted them in finding reasons to live, to exist...would those persist after he was gone? The sudden heat that bit into him a mere second later rattled him to his core, forced to him expel the fluid that had filling his lungs even as breath returned to his body that sensation remained. Bile and Blood stained his face as he continued to hack up globules of blackened concentrations of flake like crimson, he heard the muffled sounds of shouts and screams, the faint echos of words. "Captain?" Yuuka's voice broke, noticeable in that there was concerned laced within the tone, it audible in her speech in through the deafened chaos that was his mind at the present. Yet all the same he knew then that he had been saved, that despite how close this may have come to taking his life it had been beaten back for a time just as it had before. _'I wonder how many more of these my body has left in it...'_ this was by far the most severe of these attacks to date. Yet another reminder that his time among the living was drawing shorter and shorter...as if he needed any reminder of that.

* * *

 **Two Hours Prior to the Attack on Lisbon By Zeon** **Remnants**

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1,** **Bohai Sea Northern** **China, Earth**

 **July 7th,** **0091** **UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remnants Asian Headquarters**

 **1100 Hours**

The dim lighting of the chamber, the desolate feel of the long abandoned machinery now re-purposed for their war suited this meeting. The rust clad metal drenched in the coating as if it was a fresh application of blood, the groaning of industrial pumps pulling up seawater to work the massive generators that powered the platform, the clanking of boot upon deck, it was to him at the very least a sign of how far they had come...and how far they still had left to go in pursuit of his dream, his grand ambition.

The great revitalization, the rebirth of Zeon.

Not to mention that following what had occurred followed their docking with the Tianjin he had to deal with O'Sullivan in one fashion or another, he had revived the information he had required from, yet her usefulness to their cause had not fully ran its course. Not yet, not when she still drew breath and still was content to fight the Federation alongside him, if the years since the war had taught anything it was the value of the individual. Numerical superiority would never be his so he would have to gather the mighty to his cause, skill would drown numbers in their own blood if he could gather enough talent to his cause.

Stepping into the dank recesses of the interior chamber, just below the primary command center aboard the station he noted that O'Sullivan as predicted was already here. Yuuka at his back, the former Titan pilot at his front he took his place in the center as Yuuka assumed the wall by the door, no doubt to inform him if someone approached, as per usual this conversation would never leave this chamber, he disliked keeping secrets from his men, but no doubt this conversation would be best left in here. From the look in her eye he could tell as much, she was irritated, more then that she looked dumbfounded.

Was the fact that the opening volley of Olympus had another target besides California Base coming as a surprise to her? It shouldn't have, yes he had broken a sufficient amount of the North American garrison's forces in his raid on Monterrey, dozens of mobile suits, their storage buildings, fighter craft, fuel, munitions, along with pilots but that damage alone was nothing to the forces that still remained upon Earth, they would be replaced within a year if not sooner. No the offensive had to continue, and she would come to learn that.

Here and now if required, he could ill afford any challenge to his command in the coming days.

"Do you truly think this is the wisest course of action? Announcing that you have yet more forces stationed here on Earth?" The question bit deep and behind it was the thinly veiled insinuation of _'Did I choose incorrectly when I aligned with you?'_. The question was as barbed as the woman herself was, the criticism rooted down to the core she would require...more then he had anticipated then.

Yet all the same he was not quite willing to lay all the cards upon the table in his first exchange with someone so new to their cause, with someone that had tried to take his life once not even a year ago...and twice long before that. So he would compromise and offer her a mild placation, a explanation, she was due that...

"Be at ease Major, the assault on Lisbon is merely a reminder to the Federation that not all is well in their precious little world, nothing more." The even and calm voice that spoke back to her from the rear of the chamber gradually grow closer as he continued onward with his explanation, for unlike all the others who followed him, even Yuuka none questioned his strategy once the planning stage was done. O'Sullivan was unique in that regard, she was not one of them, not truly, even her defection could not change that, but she had chosen to fight alongside them in the upcoming struggle for which he was willing to give her some leeway.

An additional machine and pilot, not to mention her completing her assignment near flawlessly had earned as much.

"Remember Kries that we are allied simply due to us now having a common foe. I care nothing for what you seek to achieve, just as you likely care nothing for what I seek to achieve. I am willing to be directed by you for your cause only in so far as it benefits my own, and you would do well to remember that." Her tone was no longer biting but flat, she was speaking her mind openly now, there was no measure of subterfuge or deception in it. She was willing to burn all the bridges behind her, to kill her former comrades, to turn her back on her planet but only if she was going to properly repaid for that.

 _'She will be properly repaid for it...traitors and cowards have a special place reserved for them in Hell as I recall.'_ He thought rather glibly before he spoke openly, his tone now lacked the placation and modesty, it was obvious it was no longer needed so he could speak openly. "Of course, we both wish to see the Federation brought to its knees, whether or not it persists into the future...well that is what you want is it not? Some grand revolution? Some revitalization?" He openly scoffed, his torn and scarred visage practically twisting inward, skin peeling back, scars aching as muscle twisted and contracted as he cruelly sneered. He cared nothing for the Federation persisting past this instant in history, he had nothing left in him that could remotely even be construed as anything but a somewhat grudging if gained respect for worthy adversary in it.

"I will do nothing to hamper your progress on that front, but expect nothing more then what we initially agreed upon, whether or not your pet project bears any fruit is upon you and you alone. My own concerns must lie solely with Olympus." That was the truth she was owed, that was the fact of their situation, their strange partnership, he would allow her to act the part of the beleaguered conscience of the Federation due to her agreement to not only assist in him battle but due to the information that she would bring along with her from California base.

Information that he had desperately required, for the success of Olympus he was willing, even if barely so to allow the Federation a chance to survive into the future under her whim...after all when Zeon was reborn, who cared what became of Earth? Side Three would dictate space and therefore the future of all humanity. With the loss of its colonial investments, no doubt the Federation would buckle and become but a paper tiger of its former fury and strength. Even if he could not have the Federation broken and burning under his heel completely, its peoples and ideals utterly trampled underneath the steel toes of his mobile suit, it being suitably humbled for its arrogance believing it not the true rulers of men, the people of Zeon, of space were the ones to dictate the future, for its mere existence after the collapse of the Principality...it would be enough. Yes, it would be enough, after all what use would there be in gloating over a corpse?

With the Federation persisting after this war, they could once and forever more always hold their loss over them, just as they had with Zeon all those years ago and in all the years since.

That of course did not mean he would not take every advantage and opportunity to increase their losses from this campaign, far from it, he would see them bleed all across the stars until they relented, until they finally submitted.

* * *

 **Mercury Lagrange Point 1**

 **280,987 Kilometers from the surface of Mercury, Dark Side, Orbital Weather Station**

 **Station 1-K7, Docked Alongside The** **Endra Class Light Cruiser:** **Resilience**

 **Endra Class Light Cruiser: Resilience, Foredeck**

 **Officer's Barracks**

 **July 11th, 0091 UC**

 **1400 Hours**

Gazing down at the fearsome firestorm of exploding rock, hot ash and debris that continually erupted upward from the surface of Mercury she could only remark that it reminded her of war, she knew that **he** would like that answer. He had told her once that all the universe, all life was a struggle, conflict between those that would dominate and those that would be dominated. He was correct of course, he always was. This entire planet was proof of that, the constant struggle between the opposing forces of magma and the rocks surrounding it was why she was witnessing these eruptions after all.

Even nature itself...the universe itself acknowledged this man's rules as valid.

She laughed softly at that, a high and tilted noise that stemmed more from her nose then throat.

Even an imperfect thing such as she, some result of technology blending with flesh could see the ultimate truth that lay in his vision, in his dogma, in his ideology. It applied itself evenly without exception to individual or society. It was Darwinian in some regards perhaps yet all the same it was also the truth. The truth cared not for how people approached it, for how it was treated, it remained evident and steadfast regardless of all those who stood against it, who would try to shape it for their own aims and desires.

His truth was laid bare for all to witness, he would fight to see his home freed from those who held it in shackles and anyone or anything that stood in his way be the Federation, the Sides or even his own mortality would fall against him.

 **Ple-23.** That was what she had once been known as the 23rd incarnation of the cloning template she and her sisters were based off of but that had ended more then a year ago by this point. Now she was called **'Second Lieutenant'** or **'Squadron Commander'** or as the Commander had dubbed her simply Imke she had never heard the tongue he had spoken when he had delivered what she was now to be referred to as. He had dubbed the language 'German' which due to her education limited as it was had placed it as a region in the European Continent of Earth. He had told her without prompt that it simply meant 'whole' and had said that with the help she had given them they would indeed make Zeon whole once more.

She hadn't understood at the time of course coming out of a medically induced coma she had been told that had lasted the better part of two years had left her disorientated, confused. It was understandable she supposed looking back now at the haze that her memory was upon her revival, it was a painful ordeal coming out of what amounted to a sustaining suspended animation, a place where her final memories before to her awakening were where she thought she was to die. So she fell back on to instinct, into what she had been trained to be, what she had been crafted for...to serve. Imprinting she knew the term was, she could not exist without something to bind her to this reality, all other information was pointless, meaningless, there was only the service. She knew only that she had to serve, to be of use to her Master. However that was merely the beginning the following weeks had her education on the course of events that had followed, to serve in her role, her duty she had be brought up to speed. She had resisted of course, violently at times, these strangers, not Master, worse then that even however they were followers of that witch Haman Karn, whom she was grimly informed was and had been dead since the time her own Master had died. That had brought it all back, the final clash during the close of the Neo Zeon War, the fall of Master, the grim and bitter despair that had engulfed all of them.

Glemy Toto was dead and nothing could change that. Nothing could fix that, she had no right to exist, no reason to live without purpose, to live without meaning was a hell she'd not endure again, even now she could feel the cold claws of doubt that had ate away at her, at all of her siblings.

He had saved her from that...Dieter Kries, the Captain, Commander, She had titles and names that he had given her, that he had gifted her with, all his were earned through skill, battle, life...these were things that she had heard others call him yet to her only one label could and truly should apply to them. **Savior** , he had saved her from the demons locked within her own character, trapped within her own psyche. She could never repay such a thing, she could only be what she was. A weapon, a tool, a means of destroying and obliterating his enemies.

Thankfully he had plenty of enemies to destroy. Yet beyond even that service she was pleased that the secrets of her creation, the research and information that they had been able to glean by going over the contents of her skull, her body, her soul had resulted in something pleasing. The next generation of Zeon Cyber-Newtypes, she would be Mother to them all.

Anything and everything to serve the Master.

* * *

 **AN: Well here we have the lead up for what I like to count as the 'second act' of the story with the closing of the introduction and all with most of the new players and old being introduced and giving you the audience some idea of what they have been doing and what they are correctly up to. Plus of course I was going to eventually include the Ple I had introduced from my short one shot 'Master' I mean why even go to the trouble of creating characters if you are just going to use them one time potentially? I enjoyed her concept so much I had to make her a full blown member of the cast of this sequel.**

 **Note however I said 'lead up' not start of, we still have a bit to get through before we enter into the second act of this fic, as I said before this is planned to be a bit longer then the Soldier of Zeon given I have better narrative structure to work with in the early 0090s of UC given that we have very little taking place in this time period. It isn't like January of 0079 where you have: The Ten Second Attack, British, Loum and the signing of the treaty where you have to account for those events if you want to portray a coherent narrative that pays attention to the background its set within.**

 **Anyway I do hope you enjoyed the story and I will see you all next update.**

 **Till next time**

 **-Reborn Akatsuki**


	4. The Cost of Betrayal

**AN: Well Hello there! I bet a lot of people were not expecting an update on this today, of that I am almost certain. Its been a very, very long time since I last updated this but I am not going to get into that really. That explanation would be long and boring as for why it ended up taking so very long, at the end of the day the issue was resolved and here I am with the update.**

 **That's really all that matters no? Though admittedly I cannot deny that this potentially couldn't just occur again...but that's not inspiring at all so let us leave such talk eh? Here I am with an update, and the story is finally starting to pick up, new characters enter the stage, plots are revealed, details come to light, fun, fun, fun. Still, I won't keep this going just for the sake of an inflated word count so here enjoy the story.**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own Gundam**

* * *

 **Sword of Zeon Chapter Four: The Cost of Betrayal**

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **July 8th, 0091 UC**

 **1100 Hours**

"The Argama...now that ship takes me back" Steven Liu stated rather morosely flicking his half smoked cigarette down below, the bright cherry of flame igniting away from the thin browning and blackening paper of the tip shining like a descending comet as it plummeted away from the viewing platform. He glanced outward at the docking Carrier as it touched down upon the torn and shredded tarmac of the primary launch runway. Its pearlescent white paint gleaming in the fierce light of the morning sun. ' _Just like it did when I first saw it years ago...'_ The ship despite the fierce conflict it had weathered showed it had held up well despite the firepower and manpower that had been thrown against it back during the war against the Neo Zeon under Haman Karn and Glemy Toto. Indeed it looked just like this when he had saw it engaging the forces of Neo Zeon above the city of Dublin, though despite the injuries it had received in that conflict here it was back in action...It was almost like nothing seemed to stick to the AUEG, the losses the Federation suffered, the Titans suffered, none of it had ever seemed to matter against that ship.

"That's the Nahel Argama Steve, not the Argama." The voice of the elderly technician who ran the mobile suit combat simulators broke into his thoughts. "The original Argama was so damaged during the course of the battle of Dublin that it had to be replaced, hence that..."Leathery tanned, sun-baked skin, thin callused a hand gestured outward to the ship just as its landing struts and studs began to dig into the torn up runway ceasing the vessel's momentum and bringing it to a swift decelerated stop.

Steven just scowled at the older man, Roy he knew had gone over to the Earth based branch of the AEUG, Karaba back during Gryps. "Same model of ship." He grumbled at his mistake as he looked over the vessel again, this time more thoroughly. _'Still though what's it doing back here so soon?'_ After all it had departed shortly before the Zeon remnant attack on the base, what business could have brought it back around to their little corner of the world? It had to involve the Zeon, nothing else made sense, and that was just the icing on the cake as far as he was concerned. Zeon hit a Federation base, regular military, not the pretty boys in the Londo Bell, it should be the normal Federation forces and not anyone or anything else that brought those Zeon to justice for what they did...but it wasn't just that simple, after all it wasn't every day that someone like Major O'Sullivan went over the fence either...a Former heavily decorated Special Forces detachment leader just goes rogue and links up with the enemy during an assault on a Federation base? It was nonsense like nothing he had ever heard of before, even Amuro Ray had never defected to the AEUG in such a fashion...

The worst part to his eye? It was all obviously premeditated, nothing like that could have ever worked if it was not planned to be that way in advance. The fact that the Argama had been called back to station, obviously, obviously indicated that the higher ups were having second thoughts about the normal military's ability to actually respond and retaliate for the assault upon them, it was insulting to be quite frank. Even if the rumors were true and the Londo Bell were only going to be providing consultation and advice for this juncture of the operation, this was a Federation military matter. They could and would handle it on their own, it was their bases that had been hit, it was their cities that had been hit, the Londo Bell should have no stake in the operation, but all the same...Liu would follow the orders issued even if he could see through the paper thin facade of why they were in place.

After a petulant moment of silence and contemplation Liu eventually caved and turned to the older man before gruffly stating:"Com'on we have a briefing to get to." They needed to go over the general mission plan and briefing before they could chase the damn Zeon back into whatever hole they and the Major had crawled into. The Pacific was a big place...but they would find them, he felt that in his bones.

* * *

 **One Day Prior**

* * *

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1, Bohai Sea Northern China, Earth**

 **July 7th, 0091 UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remments Asian Headquarters**

 **1900 Hours**

"You know I could have just killed you back then and there...the thought must have crossed your mind, it crossed my own enough." The Commander of the Remnant Zeon forces, those of both Space and Earth muttered, her ears catching the faint impact of his heavy boots upon the metal gantry-way descending down the angular and narrow hall towards her room, that had been her first and only warning she was soon about to be entertaining guests in her newly assigned 'quarters'.

The thick metal door had pushed open without a word and those words just hung in the air between them as the Zeke stepped into the chamber.

She pushed herself up from the sole bit of furniture within her quarters a military issue Principality of Zeon Earth Attack Force cot, circa 0079 from what little she could make out from the rusted out manufacturer marks. The thing certainly felt like it was more then a decade old with how it was fond of sagging, and spilling her over like the contents of a overheated bowl left too long in a microwave. Brushing a handful her blonde locks aside from her face she faced him, he looked...better then had since he had last seen him, but considering that had been after...whatever the hell sort of attack he had suffered, that wasn't saying much.

His face was still gaunt, still pale and bloodshot, his right eye still an irritated and bloody crimson from where blood vessels had just burst like overripe grapes sagging upon the vine. The largest tell however was also the most obvious, he had a portable oxygen pump attached to his belt, its little feeding nose securely fixed into both nostrils. _'He's dying...'_ That much came as no surprise to her, what he had withstood, surviving again and again would have undoubtedly killed lesser men, for a _'Proud Spacenoid'_ such as him however dying before the completion of the mission was unacceptable, surgeries and treatments had kept him among the living long after his expiration date had come around.

But it was obvious despite the advent of medicinal technologies and treatments that were almost miracle like compared to what had been around back in the old AD era...it just wasn't enough to hold it off forever, the damage inflicted was simply too great, it could merely be slowed, not stopped. _'Good...the sooner the Zeke bastard is roasting in hell, the better.'_ Venom and hate seeped into her thoughts, he had caused too much pain, too much death throughout the solar system to ever be pardoned of it.

"Back at A Baoa Qu?" She questioned as again reseated herself. ' _Or back in Africa? Or at Loum?_ ' He had certainly had his fair share of chances throughout all the engagements they had fought against each other in throughout the course of their...relation. Throughout their rather storied encounters they had fought against one another, attempted to destroy each other and besides what was to be the finale of their confrontations...Side One he had always come out on top. Loum, the first of their battles...He had forced her to disengage, her craft, a spaceborne fighter at the time barely holding together as his heavy machine gun rounds tore apart the fuselage. At A Baoa Qu, after a short and rather brutal duel had left her and her GM Command both defeated.

Then Africa,the Congo...almost a year ago by this point, he had engaged her though she hadn't discovered he was the pilot of the Bawoo until after the fight had already concluded and he had left most of her Nemo flaming wreckage scattered about that river valley.

Side One was the only time in their confrontations where she could definitively said she had grasped victory over the Zeke, where she had blown his Zaku II into flaming pieces, and for most of the war thought she had ended him there and then. It was only at A Baoa Qu had she learned by some twist of fate he had crawled out of the battered and ruined machinery of his C-Type.

"Yes, there at that distant battlefield so far removed from us here and now I could have removed you permanently from the equation but I chose not to." He confirmed.

 _'He wants to monologue.'_ Her upper twisted slightly, twinging in disgust. She let out a stifled sigh before speaking herself, eyes no longer focusing upon the Commander of the Remnant but once more upon the rusting steel walls of her room, corroded rivets and bolts angling outward. "You could have, you didn't need to take me as a prisoner." She conceded, now more then anything just wanting to rush this along to the man's point and finish this off here and now.

Silence hung between them in the small private room as the Commander stepped further into the chamber before resealing the metallic door behind him.

"I thought about it, but there and then, I thought better of it because I knew that I could best placate the restless spirits of my comrades not by killing you but by humbling you, defeating you openly in battle, overcoming anything and everything you had." He offered after the moment of silence. "I was too caught in the grandeur of the battle..."He mused. "If there are threats, they need to be removed, immediately and decisively, personal feelings and stake mean nothing, I was wrong to spare you, now more then a decade later I realize that...but because of that mistake..." He trailed off coughing and spasms racking his large frame as his little oxygen machine let out a startled beep and a small sound of air popping and sudden suction and pressurization began as the little device and tank began funneling more oxygen into his nostrils, he breathed in the purified mixture deeply.

The only sound within the room was the man's deep breathing and the artificial noises of his little oxygen pump.

"We find ourselves here." She finished his thought for him. She had to agree with his sentiment if nothing else, she didn't plan to bring the corrupting and tainted persons that had poisoned the Federation over the preceding decades to trial, she planned to kill them, the Chairman, his council, his advisers, the entire upper crust of the Federation had to be torn out and removed like the cancer it was.

"We find ourselves here." He agreed.

"I can't forgive you for what you did back during the war." She spoke solemnly, truthfully.

"I don't expect you to, I expect you to fight for me, because we both know that nothing will change if we do not fight to change it. I spoke the truth earlier when I said it was no concern of mine if your grand revolution got put into motion and that is indeed the case, but...that does not mean our alliance cannot stand. I need an able pilot, a commander, in you I have these things, and through me you have access to weapons, equipment, resources and more to fight your war." He summed up the very offer he had pitched to her more then three months ago when the first of those messages that came through _Imago Trading_ began filtering into her inbox.

"I know." She replied softly, she knew what she could gain from their partnership, though she bore no love nor loyalty to the forces of Zeon, they could stand in place of proper allies in this time.

" **Olympus** will be ready to begin stage two in two weeks." He offered in closing as he walked stiffly and slowly back to the door that led to the hall, back to his brothers and sisters in arms, relics of Haman, Delaz or Gihren. Ghosts that walked among the living, those who could not comprehend the future or present and so instead dwelt within the past.

"I will be ready she confirmed." As she rose off of her bunk yet again before she turned to watch the Commander depart, upon her exterior she bore the cool, professional visage she had become renown for. Yet beyond the icy exterior she was near in turmoil. _'Two weeks? So soon?' She had expected that it would at the very least take another month to begin stage two'_ This didn't sit right, something was off...'yet _apparently that was not the case, either he had far more forces then he had let on to, far more resources then she had thought likely...or...or perhaps those in space are pushing to move up the timetable.'_ Either way she supposed it made no difference, it just meant that more people that had the Federation been a kinder, more gentler place need not die, would sooner rather then later.

Still though misgivings aside she couldn't help have her lip quirk upward as she spoke. It was time to rattle the Zeke's cage a little bit, just to inform him that was indeed going to be a equal partnership, that without her he wouldn't have had access to all the information he had wanted out of California Base's data-banks. That he wouldn't have had an insider, that he wouldn't have had access to her skill and resolve.

"When you speak to the Colonel please give him my fondest and most sincere wishes." She spoke obnoxiously, sarcasm hung between every word.

The Commander of the Neo Zeon forces paused, his gloved fingers barely centimeters away from the door handle.

His shoulders tightened, his posture straightened and even without seeing his face she could tell there and then that he was livid, driven to a near rage just by the mere mention of his supposedly hidden benefactor. He all but spat the words, scorn and venom dribbling from like a serpent's fangs. " **When**?"

Her lip quivered for a moment before it broke into a sincere grin.

"When you, yourself came back from death once again." She remarked, her tone dialing down into the spectrum of the arctic. "After all if you faked your death after that bitch Haman got what was coming to her, it wouldn't be difficult for others to do that, and the fact that you are all but most certainly a former member of the Gihren Faction back out at Axis during the Post War Era there would no way you'd be backing the Aznable Faction these days..." She offered a small shrug. "It just made sense, after all you are a figure of infamy and renown, a scourge upon the Federation, they could never deal openly with you, and considering you have been hiding for the past few years well...It just made sense." She concluded, and indeed it had, at least to her following their encounter in the Congo.

Dieter Kreis was many things, veteran pilot, squadron commander, terrorist, and more but above all he was a figure of infamy, he could have never dealt with all the factions and politicking required for his own operation to get off the ground little lone begin organizing resources for a new earnest war effort. No he needed an intermediary, but someone of renown, someone of influence, with enough credibility to actually act as a viable go between for all the various backers of his little cause.

Given his politics, Aznable was out by default and that vastly limited who it could have been, and this was the train of thought that had led her to whom she suspected the Commander had actually partnered with given his history and leanings. A lesser known figure in the waning days of the Space Attack Force but someone that had fought alongside the rather infamous figure of Dieter Kreis twice, at Solomon and A Baoa Qu both. Someone who along with the Black Phantom had been enough of a loyalist to the collapsed Principality to retreat into exile rather then give up on the 'ideals of Zeon'. Someone who had like him made the long voyage into the deep space retreat of Axis, someone who according to records, captured documents and spy reports that much like the Phantom was dead, but that was easy enough to doctor, easy enough to fake.

Not mention that whole business in the Congo stank of some outside force supporting the Zeon forces during their operations on Earth. Another ghost, another relic of the old Principality...someone who had sat out the Neo Zeon War like Aznable and waited. Officially the Butcher of Cologne had died sometime shortly after Haman Karn's ascent to power out at Axis, but it seemed at least here and now nearing a decade after the fact he had survived. Just as he had survived the fall of California Base, the collapse of the Principality, and now apparently Haman's purges out at Axis.

Colonel Enzo Bernini, yet another toady of Dozle, Gihren and Delaz come out of the woodwork like his would be mouthpiece here and now.

"You know much. You assume even more." He spoke softly after a moment, his words so thin and weightless she could scarcely hear them. "But just because you assume something to be true does not make it so, and I would strongly advise you to not voice your...theories to the others, they may think it odd our would be defector would already presume to have so much freedom allotted to them so soon after coming over to our side of things." He paused, his body posture and stance loosening, losing its combative nature.

A pregnant deathly still silence hung in the air, turning the room's atmosphere oppressive for a handful of heartbeats.

"Remember O'Sullivan, remember where you stand with me." His back to her, she could not make out his face and yet all the same she could practically taste the sneer that had to adorn it at the moment.

And then he was gone, the door swung open, and he departed without another word.

She strolled over to the door before gently closing it and wandering back to her bunk to reseat herself. Poking and prodding the old Zeke while amusing was exceptionally dangerous, she knew that, and yet to do what she needed to do she needed his understanding of this situation, their alliance was something of circumstance, not desire.

Not to mention he had indeed confirmed her suspicions. There was indeed someone behind this Neo Zeon resurgence. Someone beyond Captain Kries and his quaint little band of insurgents and old Principality and Neo Zeon fighters.

* * *

 **Eleven Days Later**

* * *

 **Juneau Class Submarine Clorinda**

 **The Bohai Sea**

 **Off the Coast of Northern China, Earth**

 **July 19th, 0091 UC**

 **0700 Hours**

The interior of the military submarine was damp and not comforting at all to say the absolute least. The air reeked of industrial grade solvents and grease, yet these were the smells familiar to the ex Titan, it was the constant barrage of salted air and water that put him in such a foul mood as they searched the South Pacific for the Zeon Transport. "You know if we had known the heading on that freighter could have already pinpointed the most likely destination due to sat imaging." Steven remarked more to himself then to his senior officer via the still activate communication network as he paced the small officer's briefing room aboard the vessel.

"Of course Lieutenant, but due to the nuclear detonation much of orbital coverage network was blanketed in hot ash, vapor and other radiated materials." Came the static ridden and hissing reply from the legendary Captain from the One Year War, Gryps, and most recently...the Neo Zeon War. Captain Bright Noa, the vaunted war hero, the pinnacle of the Federation, the commander of White Base during the first incursion with Zeon more then a decade ago...the ex traitor.

Liu didn't bother to reply so the other man continued along with his assessment.

"Still though even with the regional data we can confirm that no vessel matching our silhouettes docked within the Southern Coasts of China, so either it continued onward or its still out there lurking somewhere." He frowned as he stared downward at the tactical map placed upon the briefing room's central metallic table, here they were patrolling, searching out in force and yet for all the ships assigned to them, for all the squadrons put at their disposal, he was ill at ease, the Zeon had knew what they were getting into during the assault at the base, they had paid for it with the loss of a few suits and pilots but it was the Federation that paid the brunt of the bill, either during the assault itself, O'Sullivan's betrayal or during the nuclear detonation that the Zeon used to cover their retreat.

Over twenty pilots and machines had been lost during the initial assault, when most of their crewmen and technicians had still not been at battle stations, more then two dozen pilots and machines either lost or damaged, when the Zeon began shelling the base itself. More then a dozen more were lost in the heated and fierce combat that had engulfed the base for the next few hours, combined with the damage done to the base facilities themselves, and all the other equipment such as ships and aircraft and...Zeon had clearly won the engagement when came to the material scale.

"Four Aquatic Types, and two reconfigured Ground Types were destroyed during the assault on California Base, hopefully it hurt them, hopefully they don't have sixty more machines waiting for them back at berth with pilots to match." Steven halfheartedly grumbled mostly to himself.

"Lieutenant..." The cracking static of the comm broke him from his thought as he turned to the small audio receiver on the table. "I learned a long time ago to assume nothing, data supports that what we saw during the assault on California Base is likely the bulk of their forces, so expect anywhere from around to six to eighteen additional machines of varying era and configuration. But expect and be prepared for anything..." Bright ended it off there but Liu was smart enough to pick out what went unsaid. _'_ _Who knows if they have another nuke to fire off if they get cornered...'_

* * *

 **Prior to Federation Pursuit of Suspected Zeon Remnants into the South China Sea**

* * *

 **Federation Proving Grounds, Monterey California**

 **California Base, Defense Perimeter**

 **July 19th, 0091 UC**

 **0900 Hours**

In darkened chamber of metal, wood and glass from within the darkened brass and gold innards of a machine, a computer stirred the seeds of treachery, the fruit of betrayal readying itself to be born into the world and carry with it the labor of its grim harvest.

One of the scarce handful of structures that had never been struck either by the preliminary shelling of the base itself or during the battle itself, the primary control tower none the less went unmanned this day. It was an entirely redudant station of course as such things went, this was most likely why the Zeon had never bothered with it to begin with. More pointedly however with the departure of the Argama and in the aftermath of the assault, there simply was no need for it to be operated any longer, the control tower had after all been for mere force ordination and logistical monitoring, it maintained a connection to the Federal tac-net EFTN(Earth Federation Tactical Network) but after the base proved vulnerable, all of its responsibilities were housed elsewhere following the attack. Just as O'Sullivan had predicted all of the crucial operations for command and control had been transferred over to the primary command center. It was this prediction that had led O'Sullivan to assault it as her entry point to mine for the information that her new paymasters sought, not to mention offload the SD that the Zeon had so kindly filled with their custom made Icebreaker program.

The Icebreaker program along with the litany of other malware and viri that had been unleashed upon the Federation server farms and databases from O'Sullivan's defection had been more or less all quarantined and isolated from the network. Most of them had been contained, isolated and deleted, most...not all. The handful of programs that still remained active within the Federation servers had however proved an apt source of information, specifically regarding the local force's planned retaliation and strike plans. Among their various other uses such as data mining and compiling the various information gleaned and gathered from the various regional and local data stores, they also were quite handy in allowing the Zeon Forces to be well aware of the encroaching Federal forces that pushed further and further closer to their very door step.

From ship displacement, to number of pilots, to the amount of munitions stored aboard, all were compiled and sent off wirelessly across the Federation's own communication and data storage network before finding itself in Zeon hand's. O'Sullivan's treachery was yet to be complete...though its final card to play would soon become evident with the coming assault upon the Zeon fortification in the Bohai. These final "gifts" of her's for her new hosts would final prove their value, her completion of her own objectives back at California Base would soon bear their sinister fruit.

As the entire outer base's radar and OHR(Over the Horizon Radar) arrays and grids burnt out, as screen after screen across the base suddenly just blackened, as lighting fixtures and bulbs just burst as power surged. The now defanged North America Western Garrison was blinded over the course of a single two hour period that day. The how of it had been simple, the insertion of the Icebreaker had been the beginning and the end of this particular story while most of its viri and malware packages had been detected and destroyed in the aftermath of the battle. The most critical one had not, designed to hide itself within the makeup of the rudimentary electric and power control programs and automated commands. Such level of information on the makeup of these programs and having a viri custom tailored simply for this purpose had been something that had been coordination between them and O'Sullivan since near the very beginning after all.

Yet even as personal rushed across the base, disconnecting central servers from the primary mainframe, struggling to restore manually the automated processes, for now it was enough. California Base was now strategically insignificant. For the foreseeable future, it was as strategically valuable as a anthill. With that done and the raid on Lisbon such a successful, the first stage of Olympus was over. Now the second and even more critical then the first stage of the operation would soon begin.

* * *

 **Lunar City of Granada, The Moon, Earth Sphere Federation**

 **July 19th, 0091 UC**

 **1700 Hours**

The interior of the apartment was spaciously and smartly decorated, its furnishings both encompassing to make as much use of the open space as possible and to otherwise instill a sense of smallness upon visitors to it. It was decorated in rich red coloring upon the walls, cream soft carpets to steal the cold away from the polished and varnished hardwood flooring of the living chamber. Yes it was elegant, but all the same utilitarian, spartan

It was from this opulent suite that a war was being planned, that a nation dead yet to be born again was being stirred to war. That the suspected and in this case correctly assumed by the former Titan's Major O'Sullivan that Dieter Kreis's "Superior", his partner operated from within. For what better place within the Earth Sphere could ex Zeon move as freely or unopposed as the very city they had occupied more then a decade ago? Granada like Side Six had become a secondary home for them all following the Zeon War of Independence.

The middle aged former Principality officer stared down at the litany of status reports and data feeds as they ran across the almost 40 inch screen of his wall mounted monitor from the comfort of his leather clad sofa. His opal black eyes focused upon the incoming data streams, specifically those being laser burst, via tight beam configured array in the Korean Province, it was from here that he learned that the attacks upon Lisbon and California had indeed gone to plan, this was good, very good. Hitting the Federation, once in such an obvious military target such as California Base, and then once more in one of the few cities to actually survive the rather infamous First and Second Descent Operations...yes, they had proven their point.

The Federation was as vulnerable now as it was in the aftermath of Gryps when that Karn whore had led Zeon to their doom.

Enzo Bernini, Colonel of the now collapsed Principality reached down and pulled fourth a tumbler of Scotch from the rather ornate and stylish bronze and glass table with his free hand, his eyes never leaving the screen even as he absently poured himself a few fingers in a heat pressed iron goblet. The blackened and grayish steel gleamed in the dim artificial lighting of his abode as he grinned before downing the fine liquor.

Everything was going to plan, with Olympus under way, the Federation would not survive to the next year, it and all its corrupt pawns would be fed to the flames of the rebirth of a new greater Zeonic State.

"For the rebirth of the ideals of Zeon." He murmured to himself as he refilled the goblet and swirled its liquid contents about. Soon, very soon it would be time to make contact with the Aznable faction and confirm that their side of the agreement had been met, but of course there was no rush. No rush at all to meet with a traitor like Char.

Still this was a war after all, and certain distasteful things could not be ignored or put forever. Just as a ranking novice mobile suit pilot would eventually have to kill his first man or die, so would this be true of the collective Neo Zeon factions. So long as they were separate they would merely die apart, none of them had enough strength to survive a straight war with the Federation alone and as much as it disgusted Bernini it was common knowledge that Char Aznable also now going by the name Casval Deikun these days as well led by far the largest of those splinter factions.

So an alliance between the two of them if not just an outright merger made all the sense in the world...even if the thought of breaking bread with one of the men to kill the Zabi dynasty personally disgusted him to the point of turning the contents of his stomach sour.

But he supposed such was war. Distasteful things could not be ignored.

* * *

 **AN: Well, I just think this is short now compared to just how long people waited for it...then again after waiting this long, the chapter could be thirty thousand characters long and I'd still think it short.**

 **But all the same I have no rant or rambling in me this time so I shall simply leave you with this, I do hope you enjoyed the chapter and remember to favorite and review.**

 **-Till Next Reborn Akatsuki**


	5. Return to the Battlefield

**AN: Well here we are with the next chapter and I do hope that I will continue to update this story at a more consistent pace in the future. After all no one enjoys those lengthy pauses between updates, least of all me but after all this is just a mere hobby and does not pay my bills. So of course life must come before writing, that said I do believe that this chapter will prove enjoyable to those that thought the prior chapter, a bit short and lacking in tension and action.**

 **After all, all the players have assembled on stage and its time for the raising of the curtain.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam although I do think I'd do pretty well with the licence to be honest**

* * *

 **Sword of Zeon Chapter Five: Return to the Battlefield**

* * *

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1, Bohai Sea Northern China, Earth**

 **July 20th, 0091 UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remments Asian Headquarters**

 **0500 Hours**

Sleep still clung to him, the scarce handful of hours that he had taken for himself to refresh himself and keep his body at peak performance was far to little but he had abandoned a normal sleep cycle long ago, there was far too much to do in a given day to waste time on something as unneeded as sleeping if you could go without. He got his required four hours and little else, anything more was a luxury at the moment, one they could not afford. After all, if he was sleep deprived he wouldn't be in his peak of condition, piloting, leading, his command required that he set some time aside for it if nothing else but all the same, it was something only done out of necessity.

That was what found him in the command chamber this early morning, with the sun still yet to even rise in the sky, one message to his personal room, and here he was. Sleep abandoned.

"They've found us." Dieter murmured to himself without heat as he gazed dispassionately at the radar screen. It had been expected of course, truthfully them taking this long had been more then he had initially been hoping for back on the raid at California Base. They had bought almost a month, and with the raid on Lisbon done, it was time to move onto stage two regardless, yes this was fine. More then fine, with the Federation response this delayed, it wouldn't be all that difficult to slip away once they had broke through this assault force and once more and begin the next tier of objectives.

It would be a shame to abandon what had been their Earthborne Headquarters for near on a year now yet all the same it was yet another needed sacrifice on top many that had already been rendered in the holy service of their cause. Gazing down upon the screen and picking out the slowly moving blips upon the sonar scans, his brain revved into a familiar pace of calculations and strategy, this would be a difficult battle. Fighting it openly was doomed to failure from the onset, that was obvious just from what the passive sensors were reporting, six incoming submarines, multiple seagoing vessels...untold amounts of air support and other potential factors left a foul taste in his mouth that had little to do with the injections and serums he had been subjected to less then a day before.

Still though there was little else to do in this scenario. What must be done, would be done and damn the consequences. At the end of the day, they were all expendable, Olympus was the only thing that mattered, the only thing that could matter, without they were all doomed to die sooner or later at the hands of the Federation regardless. They would have to move on to the mainland and link up with their remaining forces and concentrate themselves once again, otherwise they'd merely be picked off grouping by grouping by the Federation, even assuming they managed to break out here and now.

With a grim air of determination he turned to the base CO a man whom had sworn himself to his cause more then two years prior with the conclusion of the Neo Zeon War, a former squadron commander late Principality who had been on duty since the following afternoon with a glint of steel and fire within his weary and aged brown eyes he spoke. "Place the facility on primary alert, prepare all mobile suit teams for combat actions, and begin evacuation procedures 1 through 4. I want this base ready to be scuttled by 1300 hours." He issued the command and without waiting for the confirmation that would undoubtedly be barked by the officer and his adjutants with an obvious limp he pushed himself away from the bank of sonar and radar screens and monitors and strolled out into the all but barren and abandoned corridors and all of the offshore platform.

Eight hours, they had to hold the Federation off for eight hours.

He bit into his lip as he continued away from the command room, thoughts drifting to the coming battle. Could they do it? As the assembled soldiers of the station went into action, as the very scenario they had been drilling for months for came to pass, could they do it? They had transport enough away from the base, they merely needed to be securely loaded with the needed supplies and personal, and that simply would take time. The mobile suits and warheads would take the longest, but there was no way in hell he'd leave yet more Zeon technologies behind for the Federation to scavenge from, it had already picked the bones of the Principality clean long ago, it'd steal no more from Haman's Neo Zeon.

He'd die before it could even take a singular bolt from one of his precious machines.

"Commander, order all squadron leads and tactical coordinators to the briefing room in fifteen minutes." The officer in question merely offered a grim nod and salute of complying with the command before going about to follow out and complete the orders he had been assigned. They had been preparing for this day for months, drills, simulations, even mock battles when the weather and conditions favored it but...as they had all found out back during the first war, there was only so much you do to teach and instruct about war from drills and simulations...

He could only hope, only hope that it would in the end, be enough of a difference here to matter. If the evacuation to the mainland failed, then Olympus would die here with them, and that was unacceptable, so despite whatever it may cost them here and now, a victory was needed.

* * *

 **Juneau Class Submarine Clorinda**

 **The Bohai Sea**

 **Off the Coast of Northern China, Earth**

 **July 20th, 0091 UC**

 **0600 Hours**

"That must be it..." Steven muttered as he continually looked over the updating satellite images that had slowly been filtering in over the course of the prior hour. It made sense of course, an offshore platform was the most logical staging point for the raids that had been conducted on North America and Europe. They had been naval based assaults in both instances, with the Zeon machines raising upward off the sea at near proximity of the early warning radar scans, with the advent of the M particle, conventional detection methods had fallen by the wayside, but all the same these assaults had been clear in their intent. To put to torch all the Federation held dear to itself, one of its few surviving cities withstand the fury of the Zeon invasion more then a decade ago and perhaps even more importantly one of its principal bastions of strength on Earth.

But here they were, they had finally tracked them back to their bolthole, and there was nothing standing in the way save whatever defenses they could muster. Perhaps though unlikely they could take them unaware, but he doubted it the particle density out in the Pacific while present was not anywhere near high to completely blanket any passive scans that could be done at range, no and if they blanketed the area in them before their assault they'd be potentially forgoing any surprise they might have retained, this battle at the very least initially would favor the defenders until they could sortie all their machines and begin a proper assault. Then the sheer weight of their numbers and firepower would see the last pathetic dregs of their would be war die in its cradle.

They'd defeat these Zeon bastards here and now, it would end now, before they killed anymore civilians. Before they even could dream of putting another of the cities of earth to flame again, before they could ever even have the gall to strike at the Federation in one of its military bases. No, it would end here, it had to end here, and he would be damned if it didn't.

Without needing any further prompting he hit the key to trigger general comms across the sub. "To all hands, this is the acting commander of this op, Lieutenant Steven Liu I am ordering all hands prep for combat stations, we are entering condition red, I repeat all hands prep for combat stations we are entering condition red...we found the bastards." His finger withdrew from the key and he let out a sigh. It had take them for longer then he would have preferred but they had done it, they had tracked the butchers of Lisbon to their hiding place, and with the combined force they had assembled for this retribution, there would be nothing less of this hidden bastion of power the Zeon had constructed in the Pacific come night fall.

No more waiting, no more second chances, no letting them slink off into the dark and remote places of the world again, the Zeon remnants here would all be dead by the end of this day. He swore it to himself as a prayer. Let these Zabi worshiping fanatics finally join their oh so glorious leader in Hell.

* * *

 _I once dreamed of a future free of the scourge of war, in the aftermath of the One Year War when we had finally defeated the Zeon, driven them back into the darkest recesses of our solar system. I had thought for a time, it would lead to actual peace, the Republic of Zeon formally rejoined the Federation and was placed under the auspices of its control...for the first time in a decade all the Sides were once again reunited, the Federation was made whole again. I was hero, I was raised through the ranks, fast-tracked to promotion after promotion for the skill and valor displayed through the conflict with the Principality Still though I should have known as I for the first time in nearly a year returned to Dublin it wasn't to be, even as I put down my weapons and tried to make a life as a soldier in a world finally for the first time in a year without war I should have known._

 _I should have known it was only the interim to the next series of conflicts that would shake the Federation to its core in the coming decade. I should have known the minute that I had met him again at A Baoa Qu, for if the Black Phantom could survive the Zeon Raid on Side One, and the fall of the Principality's final Space Fortress whom else could have walked away from the war as well? I had plenty of time to consider that of course when I was tossed into the brig of Zeon Musai as it made its way to the Lunar Base at Granada in the aftermath of the collapse of the Principality and although I was only a prisoner of war for a little over a week...Its still something that should have made me see._

 _The war will never end for some people, it doesn't matter how many treaties are signed, what some official or politician says, it doesn't matter about the lack of standing orders or even if the state issued you your uniform even exists._

 _For some the war will never end._

 _ **Memoirs of Major(RT) Meryl O'Sullivan Accounts of the One Year War and Beyond-Unpublished**_

* * *

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1, Bohai Sea Northern China, Earth**

 **July 20th, 0091 UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remments Asian Headquarters**

 **1100 Hours**

Smoke wafted in the air from his cigarette bit between his teeth as he looked upon what had been his home for almost the entirety of the prior year, soon enough to be abandoned to the Federation though nothing would be left standing in the ruins of course. Scorched Earth had been their modus operandi for more then a decade at this point, nothing could be allowed to fall into enemy hands if it could be helped and he'd be damned if he'd surrender the Tianjin to them intact. Ash fell from the flaming tube of paper and tobacco as a electronic beep suddenly intruded upon his musings of his soon to be abandoned quarters. ' _Probably Yuuka she always was the type to worry, especially now that the Federation have tracked us back here and will begin opening fire in all earnest any second now. '_ The ranging shots that had fallen short or beyond the massive superstructure of the offshore plant had alerted them to the Federation's arrival but the waves of missiles that came after had rained down fire upon the plant, erupting hellstorms of death across its narrow metal passages and upper gantries and galleries. Nothing had penetrated past the third armored layer however, and with the structure holding up well to the bombardment, it was only a matter of time before the Federation did what it always did...focus firepower.

The base wouldn't survive it, just as he had been predicting since he had come to the very sad realization that they couldn't conduct the war from their home here, no they'd have to keep mobile until they rejoin their primary force in space. Even with their planned linkup with their forces in the Gobi tied into that, that was them just regrouping with the forces that had ravaged Lisbon and burnt the proud city to the ground, no the additional forces wouldn't allow them to stand fight, not even close to it. No until stage two of Olympus was completed, they'd be forced to continue to fighting their running battle against the Federation.

"Captain where are you?" Yuuka's voice broke into his commline as he gazed downward at the two-way on his belt for a few seconds longer before bringing his hand down and grasping the plastic construction and raising it to his head, hitting the center button and speaking into it, allowing it to transmit rather then merely receive. "My quarters." He responded evenly as he opened his personal footlocker pushing aside old ribbons and medals, books and reports and hefted the simple wooden box he had come to receive, this package not even a foot in width and perhaps only twice that in length was what he had come to retrieve along with his personal normal suit and other personal effects.

"Your quarters?" She responded with an obvious hint of both alarm and confusion.

"Yes. There were somethings I couldn't leave behind..." He let his voice hand in the air as scarred and thin gloved fingers ran their way across the smooth material of the wood of the box before lifting the lid and revealing its contents to himself, a slight curve of his lip was his only reaction.

Inside were yet another memento of better days, better times, a time when he had actually looked forward to the future, saw what could await them all as humanity finally found its proper balance. Inside were twelve long cut paper tube like cylinders, Cigars to be specific, given to him way back in later December of UC 0079 all those years ago as a gift. A early Christmas gift offered to him for services rendered to the rulers of the Principality, Gihren specifically. Given to him just days before A Baoa Qu and Solomon, something that the old Supreme Commander of the late Principality had dubbed a offering of victory. He checked over the small humidifier unit within the box, rolling the tiny portion of plastic too and fore, noting the moisture that beaded upon it with satisfaction he resealed the box, locking in place the clasps back.

He had never gotten around to smoking what would have gone to a victory celebration had the war gone the other way. And so the best hand rolled and fine cut Tobacco Zum City could produce had sat within this box, awaiting the chance for them to once more bear their original purpose. Victory over the Federation.

He planned smoke one upon the completion of Olympus. It would be for all that had been lost for Zeon, Gihren, Delaz, Gato,Rinton, Burns, all the rest that had died back during the war and all the years since. That would be their victory, the rebirth of their homeland would begin with the ignition of a cigar dating back to its death. No one could claim he didn't have a spark of the dramatic within him, no one.

He responded to Yuuka softly but a moment later. "Don't worry, I'll be along shortly." He offered, he was done here regardless, having claimed what he had come to.

Letting the half smoked cigarette slip through his gloved hands to the floor below he stomped upon it once with his leather boot before he let out a held breath. "Right its time." And with a grim determination and professionalism that stemmed from more then a decade of repetition the former Principality pilot garbed himself for war.

* * *

Smoke and oxidizing metal filtered through his normal suit's visored helm hardened plastic screen and he waved it, fire and destruction dominated much of the corridor behind him. The result of to his eye a barrage of beam cannon fire that had torn through the outer plate, burned itself inside, rupturing and consuming sheet metal, pipe work, and electrical wiring until it had hit the very passage behind him. He had been but perhaps half a minute slower, that'd be him lying among the dead in the rear corridor, all the same he eyed the charred and ashen corpses that littered the hall, he gazed absently upon for the space of a seconds, soaking in the sight. Burned each and every one of them into his memory. They would not be forgotten, not by him, not as they had been by the Republic, by history itself, no he would not forgo the honor and dignity of those lost to the cause of Zeon.

They were yet more dead of Zeon for the Federation to answer for at the end of this. The smoke drifted across his sealed helm as yet another cascade of klaxons and alarms washed through the base, the intercom reporting yet more damage done to the stucture, the battle outside was raging, most of his forces either committed to the defense or preparation for their departure. Thankfully the command room hadn't been hit yet, with the nexus of their command and control still operational he could still direct forces remotely in the field without taking to the skies himself, though it was becoming blindingly apparent that was what was needed.

He had quite the mobile suit, the result of months and years of research, testing and development under Nakamura, one of the most brilliant engineers and mobile suit designers he had ever had the pleasure to work alongside and after its first sortie out during the assault on California Base, it had proven itself quite able for earthborne operation. So with that in mind he began forward once more, his pace increasing with every stride down the corridor, he had to see to the state of the hangars anyway, if their escape craft were able to lift out or not was the primary concern after all, the fueling and loading had been ordered but with the state of things at the base, who knew if the men assigned to the task were even still breathing...but they had to hold the Federation off, they had to push them back and buy the time needed for the evacuation.

Otherwise they would all die here and Olympus with them.

* * *

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1, Bohai Sea Northern China, Earth**

 **July 20th, 0091 UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remments Asian Headquarters**

 **MS-14J ReGelgu V2 'Fintergeist'**

 **1200 Hours**

He had simply been too quick, too fast to intercept, he doubted he had been a blip on the radar of his prey for perhaps more then six seconds before he had engaged him. Nakamura had been quite correct about the Finstergeist. Double the thrusters, double the thrust, his earth based speed while likely never compare to what this beast could achieve in orbit or in the dark void of space... but it still proved quite impressive, according to the technical readouts it was faster by base then even Neo Zeon's Zaku III line and was comparative in speed to the Federation's Jegan line which had only come online a little over two years prior back during the Federation's war with Haman Karn and Neo Zeon.

Crackling air, energy and heat washed across his monitors as he descended downward towards his target, the flare and bloom of his suit's thruster rigging alighting the midday sky like a second sun. His suit's right hand pulling its beam saber free from its housing rack on the suit's armored skirt. Even now it appeared as if the quarry was moving in slow motion, its beam rifle fire towards one of his comrade suit's a older Zaku Cannon model finally found home and puncturing through the suit and erupting out of its back with a torrent of smoke and flame as the friendly suit disappeared off of his IFF array as it plummeted off the steel superstructure into the awaiting brine water below. It was only then he realized, that the Feddie pilot knew what was about to befall him, with rapid movement the GM tried to bring up its beam rifle, his thrust system trying to correct to bring itself up into a lateral firing arc, effective but it was far too late.

As his beam saber bisected the mass production GM Command down the middle he couldn't help but grin slightly within his helm as the sparking wreckage of the machine behind him fell in fiery chunks to the ocean surface below. It had been far too long since he had taken to a proper battlefield himself, far too long since he had reapplied the coating of Feddie blood that had so long since stained his hands a firm and potent crimson so long ago. "Damn I missed this..." He let out a hiss of breath as his words slipped through tightly clenched lips. This was where he belonged, the fury of the battle raged all about him, and to him it was something so profound, so beautiful words could scarcely describe its majesty with any hope of doing it justice.

As he pulled back on his sticks and forced his suit into an upward ascent to avoid sporadic beam fire and missiles bursts it as if he had returned, back to A Baoa Qu, back to Solomon, for just a few brief heartbeats it was if he had never left, that if he bothered to turn up his gaze to the sky above, he'd not seen the crystal blue and white of the sky and clouds, or the raging orange of the sun, but the dark inky blackness of space, with A Baoa Qu just lurking off somewhere in the distance. The battle of all time being waged around it, two forces committed to seeing the other destroyed, anything and everything they had left to fight with being thrown at the enemy. For just those few brief heartbeats as fire consumed the skies and the sound of oceanic swells and waves were drown out by gunfire and explosions, he was back there, watching the Zeonic State burn to the ground. The thing he had sworn his life to the defense, the greatest nation to ever be crafted by the hands of man in their relatively short history.

The rage, the indignity of that day, it had never faded, never abated, through time and distance he had been able to isolate it, bury it from himself but even then it was just a few inches below the surface, with one good kick it could spring back. And here in now in today in the Yellow Sea it would be awakened. These Federation puppets would die to preserve their master's wealth and luxury? So be it, they could all die here and from their corpses he would build a bridge straight to their corrupt masters and wipe them from this galaxy in the purifying flame of nuclear annihilation. As the black armored form of his custom Regelgu banked with flaring verniers burning to avoid a sudden burst of fire from one of the approaching warships deck mounted beam emitters he kicked the power to his thrusters down to barely what would be able to keep him aloft in the air and twisted into a turn and cut back across, leaving his beam rifle squarely yet another GM, this time a II from what he could make out from the frame, one pull of the trigger sent a radiating lance of green light through its central torso, coring out the suit and erupting in a gout of liquefied flaming metal and black electrical smoke as it burst through its rear armor.

Watching the now doomed enemy mobile suit plunged deep into the rough waters that awaited it for a moment, he then turned his attention back to the battlefield proper. 'That _makes two...out of the sixty or so suits we registered, its not bad for not even two minutes work...'_ His grin once more resurfaced with avengeance, he really had missed this. A quick glance downward to his internal fuel and ammunition monitors confirmed he had another twenty nine shots in the current "magazine" before the E-Cap cartridge had to be replaced, and he had another four of those on his rear ammunition rack, not to mention more then a hour's worth of charge on his beam saber. He had even yet to make usage of his wrist mounted beam projectors that had replaced the 20mm machine cannons that had been affixed to it originally all those years ago. So obviously they maintained as well at their peak operational outputs, yes indeed he had ammunition to burn, and that was good.

After all, he still had to ensure that at the very least the stronghold held for another thirty minutes or so for the complete evacuation of personal, equipment and mobile suits from the base was completed. Once that time period had elapsed and the process was completed, they would withdraw with their surviving forces to the Chinese coast-lands and from there push into Beijing to link up with their incoming forces in the Gobi. Once they arrived in that great desert, they could position themselves for stage two of his little scheme for revolution and overthrow of the most powerful government in recorded history.

* * *

 **Juneau Class Submarine Clorinda**

 **The Bohai Sea**

 **Off the Coast of Northern China, Earth**

 **July 20th, 0091 UC**

 **1200 Hours**

 _'They are holding their own despite the weight of numbers against them...'_ It was an impressive if ultimately futile sight he was bearing witness to, the Zeon forces that had erupted from their base like spores from a fungal bloom had thus far more or less been able to contend with their first wave, but with the second being prepped and readied as they fought, it would be only a matter of time until they had completely routed this force. Even now, their once proud base and fortress, the offshore platform was burning, ebon black chemical clouds erupting forth from it like puss from a wound as a continued stream of missile, bullet and beam fire tore into its superstructure, the fact it was still standing, little lone still returning firing was impressive. It also gave credence to the notion that was not some recent acquisition, no, they had been based here for a long while, the defenses and reinforced armoring of their base supported as much.

He watched through the various video recordings as one by one the Zeon machines went down first an ancient and weathered Zaku II fell from the support gantry alongside the superstructure of the platform itself its torso alight in orange flame and liquefied metal as a beam round tore through its center mass and in all likelihood killed the pilot as well, and then a more modern and odd acquisition a Titan's era Hizack suffering the same fate as its less modern and more antiquated cousin a salvo of beam rifle fire tore through its center mass, bolts of light burning away plates of armoring and as it was all but bisected at the waist and erupted in a hellish conflagration. Bright had proven himself right despite the man's questionable history his tactical mind was clearly quite astute given that he had predicted that the initial summary of their force had been a bit...lacking. Thus far they had been engaged with a little over ten mobile suits, with their own overwhelming number while they were suffering losses, more then he'd care for they were still carrying the day. Still though it was time for him to take to the field, Captain Bright while having given his council as oversight for the mission, at the end of the day, this was still strictly a Federation military affair, not Londo Bell.

It'd be he who delivered the deathblow to these Zeon remnants, not the vaunted Hero of the One Year War.

"Technical Specialist Kapra, have my GM III begin being prepped." He turned to the Adjutant Communications and Technical Officer whom had been observing this whole sordid affair alongside him.

"Of course Lieutenant. Though the chief engineer wanted me to remind you that, you are just using an upgraded GM II Chassis." The man's once solemn and stern mask cracked for an instant an warm smile broke across as he concluded his quip. "He hopes that you will return it to base in a more intact state then when you last had it come back." Steven couldn't help it barked out a short laugh before shaking his head, to clear it of the bubbling laughter that still threatened to erupt. "I'll keep that in mind Technical Specialist."

"Right, well keep me informed of any development I am going down to the launch platform." It was time he finally took to the battlefield himself, a seasoned hand such as him there would only speed the inevitable.

* * *

 **Tianjin Offshore Platform 1, Bohai Sea Northern China, Earth**

 **July 20th, 0091 UC, 179 Nautical Miles Offshore**

 **Zeon Remments Asian Headquarters**

 **MS-14J ReGelgu V2 'Fintergeist'**

 **1200 Hours**

"All forces still active on defense grids been immediate disengagement, I repeat, all forces begin immediate disengagement." They had held the Federation off as long as they could, despite them lacking the sheer number and firepower of the enemy, them having the Tianjin fortified and reniforced had allowed them to stave off the assault, the additional armoring and inbuilt weaponry and sensors had made this a battle they could and would withstand, though of course the losses had still been greater then he would have preferred. Out of his nearly thirty mobile suits stationed aboard the Tianjin more then ten had been lost in the hectic fighting that engulfed the Bohai this day, though admittedly much of them were suits far from modern and thus utterly worthless in a strategic sense. No the true loss came from the pilots dying, the majority of his fighting force was comprised of veterans from either the Neo Zeon War or the Zeon War of Independence more then a decade ago. Losing pilots that had potentially been in their machines for more then a decade, would hurt them in the coming days, his newer forces simply couldn't compete with that level of experience and knowledge of the battlefield.

All the same though, they had held them off and with their transport craft finally prepared and loaded up for departure, they would begin immediate withdraw from the field, that was why he was still out here, someone had to keep the Federal forces busy while the remaining defenders retreated back to their duty stations and boarded the transports. His ReGelgu raised upward its right arm and let loose a barrage of yellowish green tinted energy from its beam projectors, the multiple bolt shaped projectiles sailed through the brightly light afternoon sky sinking into their target another of the Federation's GM II's, cleaving into its armored body, piercing into its torso resulting in a conflagration of heated metal and flame bursting through its back as the remaining projectiles sank lower and lower as the barrage of nearly twenty individual beams struck into its joints and modular frame, separating the suit's left leg at its jointed hip and casting it along with the rest of the flaming wreckage into the sea below. His machine shuddered slightly as it made contact with the reinforced steel girder work of the Oil Platform's superstructure, by just result of reflex his fingers already flew to the the munition storage, individual E-Cap cells clinked free of the projector's internal magazine, the smoking spent cartridges clanged as they struck the reinforced steel of the structure as yet more cells were fed into the magazine.

As potent and powerful as the beam projector was, its reliance on multiple E-Caps was by far its largest weakness, it took time to reload it, time that was impossible to find in direct combat, hence why he had returned near to the Tianjin before unleashing it, trying to reload this while under direct assault from dozens of Federal suits would have been impossible, thankfully due to the bloody nose they had handed the Federation, they were in the process of regrouping. With more then two squads of their machines outright destroyed and perhaps another three damaged and forced to retreat back to their own ships for repair and refit...yes indeed, using the projector now had made all the sense in the world, after all, he had plenty of time to reload to pick off those too stupid to retreat back to the relative safety of the perimeter of the Federation ships holding just a little over three kilometers out from the Tianjin.

Still though even though they had claimed the lives of a dozen or more Federation pilots these days and forced another dozen or so to withdraw...the enemy once they regrouped would overwhelm, they would unleash anything and everything had left, and the Tianjin would fall within the hour, it was as much to their own ability, skill and power that they had withstood this storm as it was due to the overconfidence of the Federation. Indeed he thought grimly. _'If they had came at us firing, out of the gate, using their own overwhelming firepower and numeric superiority, they would have killed us all by now...'_ It would have cost them severely of course, perhaps they would have lost even more then they would have by now had they unleashed such an assault, but all the same...they would have won.

But the chance for a Federation victory this day was gone, long gone, even now he could register through the crackling monitors of his onboard active radar suit that the majority of his defending forces were withdrawing to the interior of the platform, undoubtedly to board the transport craft that would speed them to mainland China within the hour.

Yes indeed, the Federation had their chance, and they had squandered it, it was now time for them to flee to their reinforcing allies in the Gobi, link up with them and once they had done that, it was time to move onward to stage two of this operation. But...before that, he would bleed the Federation a little more this day, after all, if they allowed the Federation to regroup too quickly, there was no doubt they would pursue them, and for all the merits of his plan, that was its weakest element undoubtedly. The Federation being allowed to pursue would inevitably lead to their own deaths and failure, and that could not be allowed.

So he would see to it personally. _'I am coming for you Feddies, the Black Phantom of Zeon has returned!'_ With that thought in mind his ReGelgu's enhanced thruster module lit once and the machine propelled itself forward off the armored superstructure of the Tianjin and into the midday sky of the raging battlefield. As the G-Force compressed and forced his restrained body against the piloting seat, he couldn't help but grin as the blood was forced downward into his gut as he twisted the machine outward, this was a thing of perfection and beauty, while it was not capable of true independent flight within atmosphere, its controlled "glide" certainly could cause people mistake its outright thrust potential for outright flight.

* * *

 **Juneau Class Submarine Clorinda**

 **The Bohai Sea**

 **Off the Coast of Northern China, Earth**

 **RGM III**

 **July 20th, 0091 UC**

 **1200 Hours**

The beam rifle was pressed into place against the rear of his mobile suit, firmed implanted into its charging rack with a satisfying clink of connecting metal upon final preperations for loadout were being completed, hurriedly but of course with the disciplined professionalism that one would expect from crews that had been performing operations of this short for the last half decade or even longer in some cases.

"We will begin surfacing within five minutes for mobile suit team launch. Prepare hands prepare for change to depth and assume surfacing duty stations." Intercom message blared across the holds of the submarine repeating its message of surfacing, while it was dangerous to raise upward out of the water and expose itself to the chaos of the battle above, as long as they were submerged, they could just disgorge their compliment of MS to join the fight and that was no longer acceptable to the Lieutenant who had been placed in command of the assault on the Zeon platform, while that had been a move of some contention, ultimately with the Londo Bell ceding operational control to the normal Earth Forces, it had been the result. Steven Liu was after all a decorated and experienced Federal pilot, even if he have a dubious history with the Titans, so giving him command of the operation had been only natural.

That was at least Steven's own thoughts on the matter, whether or not it matched reality was irrelevant to him, this wasn't some assignment that he had taken on to slap some pointless medal on his chest in its aftermath, no this was him quenching the fires that could ignite into another raging inferno if not put out quickly. This band of Zeon remnants had struck the Federation in one of its strongest defensive locations, not to mention they were undoubtedly tied to the assault on Lisbon just days before, no if this could be stopped here and now before it became another Neo Zeon War, he would be the one to stop it. Because it had to be stopped, the Federation as it stood now could ill afford yet another massive conflict on the back of the prior two it had suffered just a few years beforehand, and that was undoubtedly why they were acting now...

Not to mention there was O'Sullivan to consider as well, the former Titans Commander Earth Forces Major had gone and defected to this band of terrorists, and if her defection was genuine and he had no cause to question otherwise...Undoubtedly she would have informed them all of just how tenuous and perilous a situation the Federal military was in these days in the aftermath of the Civil War and Haman Karn's own war just two years ago. That was how he was to go into battle this day, as the banks of controls, gauges and meters began to light up, one after another, as the panoramic monitors switched on casting the cockpit in the pale glow of the camera feed as they projected a near perfect representation of his surrounding area.

They had to be stopped here, and he would stop them here.

"We will begin surfacing within three standard minutes for mobile suit team launch. Prepare hands prepare for change to depth and assume surfacing duty stations." Three minutes and the Clorinda would surface, three minutes and he and his team would take to the field and put these Zeon dogs down once and for all, three minutes...and he could potentially be facing Major O'Sullivan, he stilled the rapid beating of his heart with a few controlled breaths and shook his head to reestablish control, he couldn't be driven by emotion here, he was facing veterans today. These were not mere insurgents or disenfranchised people dissatisfied with the Federation, these were the old enemy, the plague of Zeon rearing itself once more.

As his machine hummed as its reactor roared to its full output power he knew that today would be the day that these vermin were finally put to the torch, in the aftermath of their nuclear attack on California Base, it was only just. There would be no offer of surrender today, no quarter given, both sides knew, both expected it, today would be the end of it.

One Way or another.

* * *

 **AN: Well I got to admit that I am glad I actually got this chapter out despite the sheer length of time it took for me to finally get around to finishing it off and uploading it. Did you know that more then half of this done in October before I just got swamped and my time just evaporated? Its a shame I will readily admit, but at the very least here, it is for you all to enjoy, consider it a late Christmas Present eh?**

 **Anyway with that all said, I do hope you enjoyed the chapter and remember to favorite, follow and offer a review(I really enjoy reviews)**

 **Till Next Time!(Though hopefully not as long until then eh?)**

 **-Reborn Akatsuki**


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